UTHER 


i      I  n  r 


^    ^  >'  jn 

^^^    * .3?  v^ 


MRS.EUDOHA  Is.  §OUTH 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT    LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

G.C.DeGarmo 


MARTIN    LUTHER. 


LUTHER  IN  ROME; 


OR, 


Corradina,    the    Last    of    the  Hohenstaufen. 


A    RKLIGIO- HISTORICAL    ROMANCE. 


TRANSLATED    FROM    TIIK    CKRMAX    OF 

LEVIN     SCHUCKING 
BY 

.     EUOORA.     LINUSAV     iSOLJXH, 


Principal  of  Excelsior    Collegiate   Institute,    Franklin    Co.,   Ky. 
and  Atitlior  oj  "  Wayside  Notes  and  Fireside    Thoughts,"  etc. 


I  would  not  take  a  hundred  thousand  florins  not  to  have  seen  Rome." 

—  Dr.  Martin  Luther. 


1890: 

A.    M.   THAVKR   &    CO.,    PUBLISHERS, 
BOSTON. 


COPYRIGHT,    1890, 

BY 
MRS.    EUDORA   LINDSAY  SOUTH. 


A.  M.  TllAVEB 
BOSTON. 


CONTENTS. 


VOLUME  I.     EGINO. 

I'AGE. 

I.  THE  BELL-FOUNDER  OF  ULM 9 

II.  PARVA  DOMUS;    MAGNA  QUIES 18 

III.  IRMGARD .        .        .    •  26 

IV.  NOTIONS  OF  A  GERMAN  GIRL     . 33 

V.  IN  THE  CASTLE  OF  THE  SAVELLI            39 

VI.  WEDDED  TO  THE  DEAD 52 

VII.  COAT  OF  ARMS  OF  THE  HOHENSTAUFEX 56 

VIII.  STANZA  DELLA  SEGNATURA          60 

IX.  A  PICTURE  OF  THE  CHURCH 75 

X.  THE  SECRET  OF  THE  HANDICRAFT 82 

XI.  HOW  THE   SOUL- PLANT   GROWS 91 

XII.  IN  THE  CLOISTER 95 

XIII.  THE  EXERCISE-MASTER            .                                 106 

VOLUME   II.     THE   DAUGHTER   OF   EMPERORS. 

I.  CORRADINA 119 

II.  A  PROUD  LINEAGE 125 

III.  LIVIO  SAVELLI            .                 130 

IV.  IN  THE  STUDIO  OF  RAPHAEL 136 

V.  BROTHER  MARTIN'S  RESOLUTION         . 154 

VI.  CINQUE-CENTO 161 

VII.  DOMESTIC  LIFE  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  SAVELLI       .        .        ,        .        .181 

VIII.  THE  INQUISITOR  OF  HERETICAL  DEPRAVITY 192 

IX.  THOUGHTS  OF  A  GERMAN  MONK. 197 

X.  GOSSIP  OF  AN  "ARTISTA" .  206 

XL  WHO  KNOWS? 214 

XII.  A  WAY  AND  A  HOPE 219 

XIII.  NELLA  PERDUTA  GENTE  228 


CONTENTS. 


VOLUME   III.     THE   DAUGHTER   OF   EMPERORS  (Conclusion). 

I'AGE. 

I.  LIVIO'S  STRATAGEM 235 

II.  IN  THE  NIGHT            .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .  244 

III.  IN  THE  CHAPEL  OK  THE  IMMURED         .        .        .        .         .         .         .  253 

IV.  BROTHER  MARTIN       .        .        .        .        . 262 

V.  THE  INCARNATION  OF  CHRIST  IN  THE  VATICAN             ....  264 

VI.  ALFONSO  VON  FF.RRARA 269 

VII.  FAITH  AND  WORKS *  274 

VIII.  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  GIULIETIA 283 

IX.  THE  PICTURE  OF  CHRIST  AND  THE  HEAD  OF  THE  GODDKSS           .        ,t  288 

X.  THE  WATCH-DOG- 298 

XI.  SAN  DOMINICO'S  TORCH  AND  SERPENT 302 

XII.  CORRADINA                . 307 

XIII.  A  MONOLOGUE  OF  THE  MONK 318 

XIV.  THE  POPE  GOES  TO  SLEEP            322 

XV.  CALLISTO'S  NEWS 325 

XVI.  THE  LAST  DROP          . 335 

XVII.  THE  BOOK  OF  FREDERIC  II. 341 

XVIII.  AT  THE  COUCH  OF  IRMGAUD 344 

XIX.  THROUGH !...,........  354 

XX.  THE  MORTARA  CHILD  OF  THE  WORLD        .        .        .        ,'•••-.         .        .  363 

XXI.  THOUGHTS  OF  THE  EMPEROR 0 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PORTRAIT,  MARTIN  LUTHER Frontispiece 

PORTRAIT,  MRS.  EUDORA  L.  SOUTH  (Translator) .  7 

THE  ROMAN  FORUM 39 

ST.  PETER'S,  ROME,  EXTERIOR    .        .        .  .      • .60 

PORTRAIT,  RAPHAEL  SANTI 68 

ST.  PETER'S,  ROME,  INTERIOR 106 

HOLY  FAMILY 140 

SISTIXE  MADONNA,  RAPHAEL              149 

TRANSFIGURATION,  RAPHAEI 181 

RAPHAEL  SANTI  MEMORIAI 206 

MADONNA,  ST.  CECELIA,  RAPHAEL 235 

LUTHER  MEMORIAL             '    .         .         .  262 

PORTRAIT,  POPE  JULIUS  II 268 

LUTHER,  ENTRY  INTO  ERFURTH 340 

LUTHER  BURNING  THE  POPE'S  BULI 363 


PREFACE. 


JISTORICAL  fiction  sustains  to  history  the  same  relation 
as  the  vivid,  life-like  touch  of  the  artist  to  a  portraiture 
in  words.  To  most  persons,  the  knowledge  of  history 
means  but  an  abstraction  of  dates  and  incorporeal  facts  ; 
but,  really,  events  of  history  should  pass  before  the  mental  eye  as 
the  moving  scenes  of  a  drama,  while  the  main  actor  in  these  events 
should  stand  out  with  the  distinctness  of  a  life-size  portrait.  To 
accomplish  this  result,  several  things  are  needful.  In  the  first  place, 
the  period  must  be  one  whose  events  have  been  world-wide  in  their 
influence ;  one  in  which  all  society  has  become  revolutionized ; 
one  in  which  humanity,  as  upon  the  lava-streams  of  some  eruption, 
has  been  lifted  out  of  darkness  into  light.  Invariably,  in  such  a 
period,  all  momentous  occurrences  seem  to  center  about  some  one 
hero  ;  to  blend  so  closely  with  his  personality  that  we  can  scarcely 
decide  whether  the  period  made  the  man,  or  the  man  the  period. 
Such  a  period  was  the  early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century ;  such  a 
hero  was  Martin  Luther.  "In  him,"  says  Schiicking,  "were  blended 
a  gifted  intellect,  an  admirable  courage,  a  deep  Christian  soul. 
He  demanded  for  his  people,  his  whole  oppressed  people,  the  right 
to  exercise  freedom  of  belief;  and  this  human  element  in  the  great 
contest  gave  him  his  success." 

But  to  clothe  history  with  reality  the  imagination  must  be  aroused. 
As  a  rule,  however,  the  historian  fails  just  here;  but  the  sixteenth 
century  with  its  hero  has  been  unusually  fortunate  in  this  respect. 
As  if  under  the  touch  of  some  master  artist,  the  portrait  of  the  stern 
reformer  is  evoked  by  the  words  of  D'Aubigne.  He  stands  out  upon 
the  dark  background  of  an  age  of  scholasticism,  the  figure  brought 
into  clear  relief  by  the  threatened  flames  of  martyrdom.  His  attitude 
is  that  of  fearless,  violent  assault, —  his  hand  raised  as  if  to  hurl  some 


6  PREFACE. 

deadly  weapon  at  the  hydra-headed  form  of  Error  rising  out  of  the 
Lernean  Marshes  of  his  surroundings. 

But  there  is  one  stage  of  Luther's  life  into  which  history  gives  us 
little  insight, — the. stage  of  transformation,  of  mental  struggle  pre- 
ceding the  resolution  to  make  of  himself  the  reformer  he  afterward 
became.  "There  remains,"  says  Schiicking,  "ample  room  for  the 
play  of  fancy  in  filling  out  this  gap,"  and  the  play  of  his  fancy  has 
resulted  in  this  work,  "Luther  in  Rome."  In  accordance  with  his- 
tory, the  time  of  the  narrative  is  the  year  1510.  A  few  years 
previous,  mankind  had  witnessed  the  spectacle  of  the  reign  of 
Alexander  Borgia ;  but  now,  upon  the  highest  throne  of  Christen- 
dom, sat  Pope  Julius  II.,  whose  one  aim  was  to  make  the  whole  world 
but  slaves  to  the  Papal  Chair.  Unwittingly,  however,  the  Pope  was 
nourishing  an  influence  which  must  ultimately  help  to  defeat  his 
own  plans.  Classic  pagan  literature,  with  Raphael  as  its  exponent, 
was  already  doing  much  to  break  the  shackles  Julius  was  forging; 
soon,  Luther,  goaded  to  this  extreme  by  the  evident  worldliness  and 
tyranny  of  Rome,  showed  men  how  to  become  free  indeed. 

But,  suffice  it  to  say,  Schiicking  has  furnished,  in  this  volume,  the 
missing  views  in  the  panorama  of  Luther's  life.  The  pleasure  de- 
rived from  the  work  in  the  original,  the  translator  now  gladly  shares 
with  the  thousands  of  those  who  cannot  read  German. 

If  the  reader  is  already  familiar  with  D'Aubigne's  "  History  of  the 
Reformation  "  and  with  the  "  Schonberg-Cotta  Family,"  he  will  yet 
derive  from  the  perusal  of  this  volume  a  far  more  vivid  conception 
of  Luther's  character.  If,  however,  this  should  fall  into  the  hands 
of  one  wholly  unacquainted  with  Luther,  like  the  masterpiece  of 
some  great  artist,  he  will  see  in  it  "a  thing  of  beauty  to  be  a  joy 
forever." 

MRS.  EUDOKA  LINDSAY  SOUTH, 
THE  TRANSLATOR. 


t/ 

c^^-^ 


-  / 


VOLUME     I 


EGINO. 


CHAPTER    I. 


THE    BELL-FOUNDER    OF    ULM. 


N  a  morning  early  in  the  month  of  May  of  the  year  1510, 
not  far  from  Rome*  on  the  north  side  of  the  city,  rode  a 
stately  built  but  youthful  personage  along  a  stony  path 
which  led  between  old  and  broken  vineyard  walls.  It 
was  in  the  neighborhood  of  that  little,  walled-up  tunnel  which  they 
call  the  Arco  Oscuro. 

The  rider  wore  a  coat  of  black,  lined  with  dark-red  silk,  and 
from  his  cap  of  black  velvet  depended  a  long,  white  ostrich  plume. 
This  ornament  was  attached  to  the  left  side,  thus  marking  the 
wearer  as  a  Ghibelline;  for  the  Guelph  wore  his  on  the  right.  Upon 
his  breast  glittered  a  golden  charm,  suspended  from  a  chain  of  gold  ; 
and  as  he  seemed  too  young  to  have  earned  such  a  favor  as  a 
princely  reward  for  his  services  in  war  or  in  peace,  its  possession 
must  have  been  due  to  high  birth.  In  his  broad,  glove-encased 
right  hand  he  flourished  a  long,  white  riding-whip  ;  from  his  left  side 
hung  a  long  rapier  in  its  great  protecting  sheath,  above  which  a 
finely  engraved  hilt 'protruded. 

This  youth,  about  five  and  twenty  years  of  age,  was  the  son  of 
a  German  prince.  His  name  was  Egino  von  Ortenburg.  His 
elder  brother  was  the  reigning  count  in  the  little  German  province 
in  which  the  youthful  rider  had  his  home.  He  had  himself  been 
sent  to  Rome,  to  carry  on  a  suit  in  which  his  house  was  involved. 

The  way  which  he  followed  on  this  pleasure  ride  led  over  the 
ridge  of  the  elevation  over  which  his  horse  was  now  passing,  onward 
and  downward,  till  it  led  into  an  open  country, —  a  bit  of  the  Cam- 
pagna.  Through  this,  at  a  distance  of  five  minutes  or  a  little  more, 
one  could  espy  the  Tiber,  its  waters  now  swollen  to  the  limit  of  its 
banks.  Still  a  good  stretch  before  the  rider  reached  the  river,  he 


io  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

came  to  a  well,  all  walled  up  and  shaded  by  lofty,  old  trees.  From 
its  mineral  waters,  this  well  bore  the  name  of  Aqua  Acetosa. 

Under  the  shade  of  the  trees  at  this  well  he  encountered  three 
living  creatures,  upon  whom  he  idly  let  fall  his  glance, —  a  glance  of 
that  fleeting  kind  which  sees  yet  does  not  perceive.  While  the 
young  man,  without  interest,  rides  on,  let  us  give  to  this  group  the 
attention  which  they  failed  to  win  from  him.  It  consisted  of  a 
young  lad,  an  old  man,  and  an  old  donkey, — all  on  the  far  side  of  a 
wall  about  three  feet  high,  which  surrounded  and  supported  the 
mouth  of  the  well. 

We  must  first  give  our  attention  to  the  donkey, —  for  this  mem- 
ber of  the  little  family  bore  a  pack-saddle,  on  each  side  of  which 
appeared  two  insecurely  over-filled  baskets.  To  the  burden-bearer, 
to  the  over-laden,  to  the  care-oppressed,  to  the  pack-donkey  in  a 
family,  should  the  first  rank,  in  every  case,  be  given. 

The  donkey  was  gray,  small,  and  had  the  soft,  mild,  and 
resigned  look  of  one  from  whom  there  is  always  required  much 
action  and  never  any  counsel.  He  saw  the  steed  of  the  Count  of 
Ortenburg  stride  past,  throwing  up  his  head  and  snorting  upon  him, 
yet  by  no  expression  of  the  countenance  did  the  humble  beast 
betray  envy. 

The  old  man  was,  like  the  donkey,  small  and  very  ugly.  More- 
over he  was  very  much  deformed.  He  had  a  nose  which  seemed  to 
have  had  the  ambition  to  arrive  at  a  place  as  quickly  as  the  forward- 
protruding  hump  on  the  breast  below  it,  so  it  had  grown  far,  far  out 
into  the  air.  This  nose  (if  indeed  it  was  real,  and  not,  as  one  might 
have  thought,  made  of  pasteboard)  expressed  a  remarkable  degree 
of  physical  activity,  as  did  also  the  projecting  chin;  but  the  little 
green-gray  eyes  disturbed  this  expression.  They  had  about  them 
something  extraordinarily  unsteady  and  shy,  thus  making  more 
hideous  this  man  with  the  nut-cracker  figure. 

The  young  lad  had  curly,  blonde  hair,  and  a  face  browned,  or 
rather  yellowed,  by  sun  and  dust.  Perhaps  it  needed  onty  to  be 
washed  to  make  of  it  a  right-pretty,  boyish  countenance ;  although  the 
rather  fine-cut  features  were  also  irregular,  and  a  little  crowded  one 
into  another,  instead  of  being  disposed  in  broad,  simple  lines.  He 
had  the  hair  carefully  parted  in  the  middle  ;  and  this,  together  with 
the  drooping,  soft,  blue  eyes,  made  his  appearance  somewhat  girlish. 

As  the  rider  passed  by  the  wall  surrounding  the  well,  behind 
which  the  group  was  reposing,  the  hunchback  lying  upon  the 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  ir 

ground,  the  donkey  standing,  and  the  lad  resting  his  elbows  upon 
the  wall,  his  horse  shied, —  perhaps  on  account  of  the  man's  ugliness. 
It  made  a  spring  to  one  side,  and  some  object  fell  clattering  to  the 
ground. 

Count  Egino  quieted  the  animal  with  his  voice,  at  the  same  time 
shortening  the  reins  and  bringing  him  to  a  halt.  Then  looking 
upon  the  ground,  and  pointing  with  his  riding-whip,  he  called  to  the 
lad  in  Italian  :  — 

"You,  there, —  come  and  pick  that  up  for  me." 

It  was  a  little,  oblong  silver  plate  toward  which  he  pointed.  The 
bridle  of  his  horse  was  covered  with  similar  plates,  and  this  one  had 
sprung  loose  and  been  hurled  to  the  ground  by  the  movements  of  the 
excited  animal. 

The  youth  looked  at  it  without  moving. 

The  rider  turned  his  horse  close  to  the  wall,  and  swinging  his. 
whip,  cried  out  again  :  — 

"Heh!  sluggard,  move  yourself,  and  pick  up  for  me  that  piece  of 
metal." 

"I  will  not,"  said  the  lad,  angrily  knitting  his  brows,  and  looking 
without  other  motion  into  the  eyes  of  the  rider. 

In  the  same  instant  fell  the  riding-whip,  the  stroke  being  aimed  at 
the  face  of  the  boy ;  but  a  sudden  movement  of  the  head  caused  it  to 
strike,  instead,  the  left  shoulder. 

Up  to  this  time  the  hunchback  had  only  turned  his  head  with  a 
certain  apathy  to  see  what  was  going  on ;  but  now  he  sprang  up 
with  the  suddenness  of  a  locust,  and  swung  himself  with  a  wonderful 
agility  upon  the  back  of  the  wall.  With  the  same  agility  a  fearfully 
large,  powerful,  hair-covered  fist  was  thrust  into  the  reins  of  the  horse, 
and  it  held  them  as  in  an  iron  grasp.  The  horse  attempted  to  rise  upon 
its  hind  feet ;  the  fist  held  it  down  as  in  an  iron  vise.  The  rider 
looked  with  unconcealed  fright  upon  the  face  of  the  hunchbacked 
creature  on  the  wall  before  him.  The  face  of  this  being,  transformed 
by  anger  and  a  thirst  for  revenge,  had  a  somewhat  supernatural  hid- 
eousness ;  and  a  supernatural  power  seemed  also,  indeed,  to  lie  in  the 
hand  which  stretched  itself  out  toward  the  rider,  in  order  to  tear  him 
from  the  horse. 

This  would  probably  also  have  happened,  although  Egino  was  on 
his  guard,  and  was  reaching  with  his  right  hand  for  his  dagger,  if  the 
lad,  pressing  his  right  hand  upon  his  wounded  shoulder,  had  not 
called  out :  — 


12  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  Let  him  alone,  Uncle ;  let  him  alone.     Do  him  no  harm." 

The  boy  uttered  this  in  the  German  speech.  The  enraged  mon- 
ster seemed,  however,  accustomed  to  render  to  him  an  involuntary 
obedience.  He  let  the  reins  loose,  and  laughed  now  at  the  rider, 
grinning  in  his  face.  His  laugh  had  in  it  something  of  the  insane, 
if  indeed  it  did  not  mean  to  say  :  — 

"See!  I  could  kill  you  and  crush  you  to  atoms  if  I  wished,"  and 
it  expressed  only  joy  in  this  superiority  of  power.  Count  Egino 
quieted  his  horse,  then  said,  likewise  in  German  :  — 

"You  are  Germans — fellow-countrymen?  Now,  then,  I  am  sorry 
that  I  have  beaten  you,  my  lad,  as  a  good-for-nothing  Roman  vaga- 
bond, for  which  I  mistook  you.  You  might,  however,  with  a  little 
friendliness,  and  a  very  little  inconvenience,  have  saved  me  the 
trouble  of  dismounting." 

"That  would  I  have  done,"  answered  the  youth  in  German,  "if 
you  had  made  the  request  politely.  Now  I  am  glad  I  didn't  do  it 
since  you  are  a  German  ;  for  your  rude  behavior  shows  that  you  do 
not  deserve  the  slightest  accommodation  from  your  countrymen." 

Egino  looked  upon  the  boy  in  surprise  ;  his  eye  glanced  as  if 
inquiringly  over  the  slight,  weak  form  in  its  simple  coat  of  cloth. 
Then  he  replied  in  a  tone  of  good-humored  scolding :  — 

"  Now,  now,  nothing  unkind.  If  my  hand  is  overhasty,  so  is  your 
tongue.  Let  us  conclude  a  peace,  and  both  make  it  good, —  I  the 
stroke  with  the  hand ;  you  your  scolding  with  the  tongue.  Here  is 
my  hand."  Stooping  over  he  reached  to  the  boy  his  right  hand. 
The  latter  took  it,  and,  appeased,  said  :  — 

"  I  am  satisfied,  and  next  time,  if  you  ask  me  nicely,  will  pick  up 
what  you  have  lost." 

."What  I  have  lost?"  rejoined  Egino,  with  a  fleeting  smile;  "of 
that  will  you  find  little  to  pick  up.  One  loses  many  a  good  thing,  to  be 
sure,  on  the  way  from  his  twentieth  to  his  thirtieth  year,  especially 
if  this  way  leads  over  Rome.  But  if  they  are  lost  they  are  not  to  be 
found  again." 

"  There  is,  doubtless,  among  the  things  you  have  lost,  either  your 
head,  your  heart,  your  calling,  or  your  courage." 

"The  devil !  "  said  Egino,  this  time  looking  with  real  surprise  upon 
the  soft,  speaking  eyes  of  the  boy.  "  You  have,  at  least,  not  lost,  on 
your  way  from  Germany  here,  a  precocious  mother-wit.  I  wonder 
only  that,  with  it,  you  have  made  your  journey  hither  on  foot.  Ger- 
man mother-wit  and  German  shrewdness  stand  not  at  a  very  high 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  13 

price  here, — indeed,  German  things  in  general,  unless  it  is  German 
money." 

"We  come  also  with  German  money,  even,"  responded  the  youth, 
as  with  a  quiet  self-consciousness. 

"With  German  money  ?  " 

The  hunchback,  who,  during  this  conversation,  had  slipped  down 
from  the  wall,  and  propped  upon  it  both  elbows,  and  upon  these  his 
head,  so  that  he  could  stare  with  still  and  satisfied  grin  upon  the 
rider  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  suddenly  turned  to  his  young 
companion. 

"  Irmgard  ! "  cried  he,  in  a  sharp,  angry  tone  of  reproof. 

"  Be  still,  Uncle ;  I  know  what  I  am  saying." 

"  Irmgard  ?  "  said  the  rider,  slowly  uttering  the  name  in  question- 
ing astonishment. 

"That  is  my  name,"  said  Irmgard,  candidly. 

"That  is  your  name,"  rejoined  Egino,  smiling;  "and  I  —  well,  I 
name  myself  a  blockhead  not  to  have  seen  at  once  that  you  are  a 
girl.  I  ought  to  have  known  that  from  your  eyes.  Now  I  am  doubly 
sorry  that  I  struck  you." 

"  I  am  not." 

"  You  are  not  ?     Wherefore  ?  " 

"Because  it  was  a  rude  injury  you  have  committed,  and  because, 
as  an  honorable  German,  you  must  now  seek  to  make  it  good.  It  is 
but  just  that  you  should  be  of  service  to  poor,  stupid,  ugly,  dear 
Uncle  Kraps  and  myself.  We  come  unprotected  and  alone, — my 
uncle  has  so  willed  it,  —  into  this  strange  land,  among  a  strange  peo- 
ple, of  whom  the  more  I  see  the  less  I  like.  We  should  thank 
Heaven  if  we  find  some  one  who  must  now  advise  and  help  us." 

Egino  looked  upon  the  maiden  awhile  in  silence,  then  threw  him- 
self from  the  saddle,  fastened  his  horse  to  the  nearest  willow,  and 
seated  himself  upon  the  wall.  Folding  his  arms  upon  his  breast, 
while  Irmgard  leaned  upon  the  wall  from  the  inner  side,  he  said  :  — 

"  You  are  right  about  that.  I  am  ready  to  render  you  aid  and 
counsel,  if  you  need  them.  To  be  sure,  I  am  myself  not  of  much 
consequence  here,  as  I  am  a  foreigner;  but  I  am  Count  Egino,  of 
Ortenburg,  and  having  been  in  the  city  several  weeks,  I  have,  at 
any  rate,  more  friends  than  you.  So  tell  me,  now,  what  can  I  do 
for  you  ? " 

Irmgard  did  not  appear  at  all  excited  to  learn  that  the  young  man 
was  a  person  of  such  distinction.  Had  she  inferred  as  much  from 


i4  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

his  appearance,  or  had  her  long  journey  accustomed  her  not  to 
manifest  surprise  at  anything  ?  Or  did  it  lie  in  her  character,  which 
showed  itself,  in  general,  of  a  peculiarly  quiet  and  self-possessed  kind  ? 
She  only  replied  :  — 

"We  are  not  so  distinguished.  We  are  natives  of  Ulm.  My 
Uncle  Kraps  is  a  bell-founder.  He  is  very  clever  in  his  art.  He 
can  also  mould  cannon,  culverin,  falconet,  and  other  tubular  pieces  of 
artillery.  In  this  way  he  has  earned  much  money,  which  he  has 
saved  up,  and  added  to  it  an  inheritance." 

"Yes,  yes,  an  inheritance,"  here  interposed  Uncle  Kraps,  with  a 
wonderfully  sly  laugh,  which  he  still  continued  to  himself  long  after 
Irmgard  had  resumed  speaking. 

"I  am,"  said  she,  "an  orphan,  the  daughter  of  my  Uncle's  sister. 
He  adopted  me ;  and  since  I  have  been  large  enough  I  have  nursed 
him  and  cared  for  his  house.  Therefore  his  talk  was  always  of  tak- 
ing me  out  into  the  world  as  soon  as  I  should  be  grown  up.  He 
talked  incessantly  of  traveling  and  going  out  into  the  world.  He 
did  not  like  to  stay  in  Ulm ;  for  years  it  had  been  barely  endurable 
to  him.  'If  the  bells  travel  so  can  I,'  he  would  say.  On  Thursday 
of  the  last  Passion  Week  he  said:  'To-day  the  bells  I  have  moulded 
fly  to  Rome,  where  the  Pope  baptizes  them.  When  the  spring 
comes  will  I  also  fly  to  Rome.'  ' 

"'We  will  stay  there,  Irmgard,'  he  would  say;  'I  will  see  what 
the  bells  do  next  Passion  Week  in  Rome.  You  will  go  with  me. 
We  will  buy  a  donkey, —  a  donkey  and  a  pack-saddle,  with  two  bas- 
kets for  carrying.  It  will  carry  our  clothing  and  my  money.  With 
this  money  I  will  in  Rome  become  a  lord,  as  good  as  the  town- 
clerk  or  the  recorder  of  Ulm.  With  money  one  can  become  a  lord 
in  Rome,  and  that  will  I  do.  They  have  long  enough  called  me 
here  the  crooked  silver  thief,  the  spit-devil ;  long  enough  has  every 
one  who  sees  me  acted  as  if  it  cost  him  the  entrance-fee  of  a  jest 
to  dare  to  look  upon  me  ;  as  if  he  must  make  himself  even  by  some 
new  sally  of  wit,  some  word  of  derision  or  insult  at  the  expense  of 
my  appearance.  Long  enough  ;  Irmgard  and  I  have  had  enough. 
Now  you  are  grown  large  I  will  set  out.  I  will  mould  no  more 
bells.  Those  I  have  moulded  are  sufficient  to  toll  them  all  to  the 
grave,  or  as  poor  sinners  to  the  gallows,  whither  they  may  be 
going.  I  will  be  a  lord  !  In  Rome  !  There  it  may  come  to  pass. 
The  city  provost  has  told  me  so.  One  receives  a  great  Latin  parch- 
ment about  it,  and  a  title,  and  a  blue  hat  with  a  broad  silver  border 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  15 

on  it,  or  a  red  one  with  a  gold  border.  Besides,  he  receives  so  much 
yearly,  that  he  gets  richly  the  desires  of  his  life.'  Isn't  it  true,  Uncle, 
that  you  have  told  me  all  this  ? " 

Uncle  Kraps  nodded  his  head  with  an  expression  of  pleasure. 

"Yes,  I  have  said  so,"  he  answered.  "So  it  was.  Irmgard.  But 
I  had  rather  have  the  red  hat.  If  my  money  can  bring  the  red  one, 
I  had  rather  have  it  red." 

Egino  shook  his  head  wonderingly  over  this  remarkable  pilgrim. 

"What,  then,  do  you  wish  to  become?"  said  he,  turning  to  the 
bell-founder.  "  President  of  the  Grain-commission  ?  Secretary  of 
Briefs,  or  Inspector  of  Excise?  Assessor  of  the  Board  of  Salt?  Door- 
keeper? Janizary?  Stenographer  of  the  Pope  ?  You  could  certainly 
be  any  one  of  these,  since  you  are  so  rich,  and  there  are  Germans 
enough  among  all  these  people, —  in  fact,  out  of  all  free  lands  are 
they,  and  especially  Germany.  Pope  Julius  has  just  now  begun  to 
appoint  one  hundred  new  Writers  of  the  Archives  ;  to  obtain  that 
position  you  need  only  to  pay  into  the  treasury  of  the  Pope  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  scudi." 

"Do  you  see,  Irmgard — do  you  see  ?"  and  Uncle  Kraps  turned 
upon  the  maiden,  his  face  all  laughing.  "That  is  just  what  the  city 
provost  told  me  ;  he  hasn't  lied,  as  you  thought.  He  has  also  given 
me  an  excellent  testimonial  of  my  skill,  my  good  behavior,  my  hon- 
orable calling  all  my  life;  and  now  I  will  go  with  it  to  the  —  what 
did  you  call  the  man,  my  lord  ? " 

"The  Treasurer  of  His  Holiness." 

"  I  will  go  to  the  Treasurer  of  the  Pope.  Bridle  the  donkey,  Irm- 
gard. The  provost  has  not  lied  to  me.  Bridle  the  donkey,  child  ; 
we  will  now  go  farther." 

"Then  I  will  beg  pardon  of  the  provost,"  said  Irmgard,  "for  I 
have  always  had  the  fear  that  he  was  making  sport  of  you,  just  as 
the  whole  city  thought  they  might  dare  to  do." 

With  that  she  turned  to  pick  up  the  bridle,  which  was  lying  on 
the  ground,  and  to  put  it  upon  the  donkey. 

In  the  meantime  Count  Egino  let  his  glance  pass  from  the  uncle 
to  the  niece,  and  from  her  back  to  the  uncle.  Now  his  look  followed 
the  quiet  and  graceful  movements  of  the  girl,  while  he  said  :  — 

"But  you  have,  as  yet,  told  me  only  half  of  your  story;  and  if  I 
am  to  be  your  friend  and  adviser  here  in  Rome,  I  must  know  it  all. 
Was  it  for  the  sake  of  safety  upon  your  journey,  Irmgard,  that  you 
have  adopted  the  garb  of  a  boy  ?" 


1 6  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

"  It  was  not  possible  to  do  otherwise,"  she  responded,  half  turning 
her  back  as  she  busied  herself  with  the  donkey.  "In  order  to  find 
safe  lodgings  we  must  go  always  from  cloister  to  cloister.  The 
pious  fathers  who  thus  afforded  us  food  and  shelter  could  not  have 
received  into  their  retreat  a  maiden  ;  and  if,  on  that  account,  we  had 
knocked  for  a  night's  lodging  at  some  nunnery,  the  nuns  would  have 
set  up  a  great  cry  over  the  appearance  of  this  poor  Uncle,  and  have 
driven  him  away,  though  he  is  not  at  all  captivating.  It  was  neces- 
sary, you  see,  that  one  of  us  should  change  sex;  and  as  Uncle 
Kraps,"  said  Irmgard,  with  the  shadow  of  a  roguish  smile,  "  showed 
no  natural  fitness  to  become  a  reputable  female,  I  was  obliged  to 
become  a  boy." 

"And  a  very  pretty  one  at  that,"  said  Egino,  ever  more  drawn  by 
this  apparition,  whose  simple  artlessness  and  candor  had  for  him 
something  so  much  the  more  pleasing  the  more  it  stood  in  con- 
trast with  the  whole  nature  of  the  world  in  which  he  had  lived 
for  months. 

"  Will  you  now,  indeed,  tear  yourself  away  ? "  he  continued.  "  Is 
your  Uncle  Kraps,  then,  in  such  a  hurry  to  see  himself  in  the  blue 
or  red  hat  ? " 

"  You  see  he  is,"  answered  Irmgard,  smiling.  "  We  will  betake 
ourselves  to  the  German  Wayfarer's  Inn.  The  good  monks  where 
we  were  last  night  described  this  place  to  us,  so  we  can  easily  search 
it  out.  Uncle  Kraps  finds  everywhere  the  way  and  path." 

"Well,  then,"  responded  Egino,  "I  will  come  there  to  look  after 
you ;  and  if  you  need  me,  find  me  at  the  Albergo  del  Drago,  in  the 
Via  della  Mercede,  by  San  Silvestro.  Can  you  fix  all  that  in  your 
mind  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  Albergo  del  Drago  —  Via  della  Mercede,  by  San  Sil- 
vestro," repeated  the  maiden.  "  I  shall  find  myself  there  if  anything 
should  happen  which  would  compel  us  to  go  to  you  for  advice.  On 
the  way  hither  we  have  learned  to  speak  Italian,  Uncle  and  I,  for 
which  you  should  rejoice,  Count  Egon " 

"Egino  —  Count  Egino,  from  Ortenburg." 

"Count  Egino,  from  Ortenburg.  And  now  farewell.  Your  horse 
becomes  impatient  that  you  should  waste  so  much  time  with  us 
humble  folk.  He  is  more  proud  than  his  master,  it  seems." 

"That  is  quite  likely,  when  the  master  is  such  a  modest  fellow," 
laughed  Egino,  reaching  Irmgard  again  his  hand,  bowing  to  the  grin- 
ning bell-founder,  and  turning  again  to  remount  his  horse. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  17 

When  he  had  swung  himself  upon  the  horse  and  ridden  some  dis- 
tance, he  looked  back  several  times  upon  his  new  acquaintances,  and 
saw  how  they  started  out.  Irmgard  walked  before ;  the  donkey  fol- 
lowed ;  last,  with  travel-wounded  feet,  came  hunchbacked  Uncle 
Kraps. 

"A  remarkable  pair  of  clients  I  have  won  there,"  said  Count 
Egino,  finally,  to  himself,  —  "  won  through  a  blow  of  my  riding-whip." 
"Wonderful,"  he  continued,  as  they  disappeared  out  of  his  sight. 
"  I  feel,  since  that  occurred,  as  if  the  maiden,  this  free-spoken  Irm- 
gard, already  stands  near  me  as  an  old  acquaintance  ;  as  if,  since 
then,  between  my  soul  and  hers  there  were  something  that  binds  us 
closer, —  the  bond  of  an  obligation  toward  her;  or,  indeed,  that  of  an 
old  friendship,  —  or,  —  now,  let  it  be  what  it  will,  I  will  do  for  her 
what  I  can.  This  old  bell-founder  will  buy  for  himself  a  title,  and 
a  right  to  go  about  in  stately  robes  of  honor  !  As  if,  on  that  account, 
the  street  gamins  will  any  the  less  cry  after  him,  '  Ecco  pasquinoj  or 
the  people  the  less  name  him  ugly  ^sop,  although  he  may  have  ten 
times  the  right  to  let  himself  be  called  Lord  Secretary,  or  Lord 
Stenographer." 

That  Uncle  Kraps  would  soon  win  for  himself  such  a  right,  Count 
Egino  did  not  doubt ;  for  in  Rome,  at  that  time,  such  was  not  difficult 
to  acquire. 

The  Popes,  since  the  time  of  Sixtus  IV.,  had  adopted  a  wonderful 
method  of  obtaining  loans  to  the  state.  Our  states,  when  they  need 
money,  give  bonds  with  interest  coupons.  The  canonical  law,  how- 
ever, forbade  the  giving  or  receiving  of  interest.  The  Popes  gave, 
instead  of  a  bond,  a  parchment  which  conferred  a  title, —  an  office 
with  all  its  privileges.  The  salary  of  this  office  represented  the 
interest  of  the  sum  paid  to  obtain  it.  So,  by  the  payment  of  a  cer- 
tain number  of  scndi,  one  could  become,  not  only,  as  at  present,  a 
creditor,  but  one  of  the  innumerable,  all-important  officials  and  honor- 
bearers  of  the  state.  Let  a  man  even  be  by  birth  such  an  object  of 
ridicule  as  this  bell-founder  of  Ulm,  if  it  were  established  that  his 
precious  metal  consisted  of  pure  stuff,  even  he  could  attain  to  this 
honor. 


CHAPTER    II. 

PARVA  DOMUS;    MAGNA  QUIES. 


OUNT  EGINO  had  taken  a  course  downward  along  the 
Tiber ;  at  the  foot  of  precipitous,  upheaved  heights  of 
tufa  on  his  left,  he  rode  upon  his  beautiful  blooded  black 
steed.  On  the  right,  before  him,  rose  the  arches  of  the 
Milvian  bridge,  still  protected  by  a  strong  tower,  and  extending  over" 
the  golden  flood  which  swelled  and  rushed  madly  roaring  beneath. 
When  Egino  had  reached  this,  and  with  it  the  old  Flaminian  Way, 
he  followed  this  road,  turning  again  to  the  left  toward  the  city.  It 
was  alive  with  pedestrians  :  with  lazy  fellows  who  sat  upon  donkeys 
in  the  shade  of  a  three-cornered  roof  of  old,  dirty  linen  ingeniously  at- 
tached to  the  saddle ;  with  women  leading  children  by  the  hand  and 
carrying  great  bundles  on  their  heads ;  with  pilgrims,  equestrians, 
and  peasants  of  the  Campagna,  who  led  clumsy  oxen  before  heavily 
laden  wagons,  urging  them  on  with  long  goads.  All  made  a  great 
confusion,  crying  out  and  raising  a  cloud  of  dust,  which  Egino  would 
not  have  encountered  had  it  not  been  his  point  of  destination  was 
on  this  Flaminian  Way.  It  was  the  villa  of  a  friend,  which  arose  on 
the  left,  behind  the  endlessly  long  walls  accompanying  the  Way,  and 
separating  from  it  the  vines  and  gardens  by  its  side.  The  villa  lay 
about  half  way  between  the  Ponte  Molle  and  the  Flaminian  Gate. 
At  the  place  where  it  began,  a  profusion  of  blooming  roses  had 
thrown  themselves  over  the  top  of  the  wall.  Cypress  and  laurel 
reared  their  dark  green  behind  it,  thus  making  known  an  asylum  of 
rest  and  summer  retirement.  From  the  hot,  deeply  dust-covered 
earth  of  the  sunny,  noise-filled  street,  through  the  gray,  heavy 
wooden  gate  on  which  Egino  knocked,  one  could  not  enter  this  circle 
of  green  without  refreshing  his  inner  being  with  a  deep  inhalation, 
and  feeling  in  all  the  fibers  of  sensation  an  increased  delight  in 
the  day. 

18 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  19 

The  casino,  or  dwelling-house  of  the  villa,  stood  in  the  background, 
with  its  rear  moved  up  close  to  the  steep  chain  of  heights,  which 
here,  falling  away  precipitously,  overlooked  the  valley  of  the  Tiber. 
It  arose  three  stories  above  a  terrace ;  from  the  terrace  led  to  the 
right  a  stairway  of  stone,  into  a  little,  open  portico,  or  pergola,  from 
which  was  the  entrance  to  the  main  story  of  the  building. 

It  was  small, —  the  whole  thing.  On  the  frieze  over  the  upper 
windows,  of  which  there  were  four,  appeared  the  inscription,  "Parva 
domus  ;  magna  gutes."* 

As  he  entered  the  villa,  admitted  by  an  old  gardener,  Egino  him- 
self led  his  horse  into  a  stall  leaning  against  the  inner  side  of  the 
wall  near  the  gate, —  a  narrow  place  prepared  only  for  two  goats. 
Then  he  strode  to  the  casino,  already  waving  from  a  distance  at  the 
two  persons  whom  he  saw  sitting  at  the  breakfast-table  under  the 
.portico.  It  was  a  man  and  a  woman.  The  former  gayly  returned 
his  greeting  with  his  hand ;  the  lady  stepped  to  the  balustrade  of 
the  little  hall  and  cried  to  him  :  — 

"  The  cheerful  morn  brings  ever  welcome  guest." 

Egino  hastened  up  the  steps  of  the  terrace  and  the  hall,  in  order 
to  shake  the  friendly  hands  stretched  out  toward  him.  He  was 
soon  seated  between  them  at  the  table  spread  with  wine,  bread, 
honey  and  fruits.  The  hostess  tasted  for  him  the  Venetian  glass 
which  the  host  had  filled  with  Monte-Pulciano,  and  soon  they  were 
in  the  midst  of  a  lively  conversation,  which  derived  its  tenor  from 
what  one  might  have  called  the  mental  mirror  of  their  surroundings. 

In  a  portico  within  whose  walls  old  works  of  statuary,  remnants  of 
classic  art,  have  been  built  up ;  in  a  villa  where  the  eye  rests  upon 
evergreen  walls  of  laurel  and  cypress,  while  springing  fountains  cool 
the  air  with  their  restless  play ;  upon  a  height  from  which  one  sees 
the  golden  Tiber  flowing,  and  looks  down  upon  the  ruins  of  heathen, 
and  basilicas  of  Christian  Rome, —  on  such  a  spot,  between  esteemed 
and  honored  persons,  whose  souls  we  love  because  they  are  kindred 
souls,  can  only  one  kind  of  interchange  of  thought  exist, —  that  which 
mirrors  something  of  the  same  beauty  that  has  spread  its  charm 
over  the  surroundings. 

'"Mag-na  quies  f  "  said  Egino.  "  Have  you  written  that,  or  some 
of  your  predecessors,  upon  the  front  of  your  house,  Signor  Callisto?" 

"I,  after  I  had  brought  my  wife  into  this  house,"  answered  Signor 
Callisto,. —  a  finely  built  man  in  the  thirties,  with  intelligent  features, 
and  a  mouth  around  which  a  mocking  smile  was  ever  imminent,  if 

*LittIe  house;  great  quiet. 


20  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

not  in  actual  existence,  while  his  eyes,  half  shut  as  in  a  dream,  let 
his  glance  wander  in  the  distance. 

"Your  husband  " — Egino  turned  to  the  young  and  beautiful  wife, 
who,  in  her  light  morning  dress,  presented  the  picture  of  a  stately 
and  distinguished  Roman  lady,  only  more  tender,  smaller,  and  also 
sweeter  than  the  usual  type  of  Roman  beauty — "your  husband 
speaks  for  you  great  praise,  Donna  Ottavia,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to 
translate  ' quies'  as  peace." 

"You  but  poorly  comprehend  his  derisive  smile,  Signer  Conte 
Gino,"  answered  Donna  Ottavia,  "if  you  take  it  as  an  expression  of 
praise  for  me.  It  is  nothing  else  but  an  epigram  upon  me." 

"An  epigram  ?     And  how  could  that  be  ?  "  asked  Egino. 

"He  will  declare,"  continued  Ottavia,  looking  roguishly  at  her 
husband,  "that  for  a  long  time  I  -kept  him  in  a  sore  and  stinging 
pain  of  the  heart,  so  long  as  I  coquettishly  let  him  sue  for  me.. 
Now,  since  I  have  given  him  my  hand,  has  he  —  rest.  The  heart- 
flame  is  extinguished." 

She  gave  him  a  light  tap  on  the  upper  part  of  the  arm. 

"You  women  are  short-sighted,"  answered  the  host  ;  "otherwise 
would  you,  in  the  lmagna  quies?  recognize  the  greatest  compliment, 
the  most  brilliant  glorification,  which  a  man  can  inscribe  upon  a 
house  in  which  his  wife  rules " 

"I  am  of  that  opinion  also,"  interposed  Egino;  "for  it  is  next  to 
saying  that  she  rules  with  quiet  sweetness,  and  makes  no  noise  about 
it ;  she  is  gentle, —  she  doesn't  scold  or  indulge  in  anger." 

"And,  furthermore,"  said  the  host,  interrupting  him,  "it  says  she 
has  given  to  her  husband  the  blessed  rest  of  the  heart,  the  rest  in 
the  beloved,  which  comes  over  us  only  when  we  have  succeeded  in 
winning  the  full  surrender  of  a  wife,  —  the  blissful  assurance  of  pos- 
sessing her,  the  affectionate  constancy  of  a  true  being  sacrificing 
to  us  her  life." 

"And  I  think,"  continued  Egino,  "only  the  woman  with  a  soul, 
only  the  great  womanly  nature,  can  give  this  rest.  She  is  simple  in 
her  feeling,  and  in  this  simplicity  strong.  Every  noble  thing  is 
simple,  unchangeable,  quiet.  Therefore  is  fidelity  the  most  beautiful 
virtue  ;  it  is  the  highest  indication  of  a  character.  Only  the  contracted 
feminine  nature, — you  must  know,  Donna  Ottavia,  that  I  divide 
your  whole  sex  into  two  classes,  ladies  and  waiting-maids,  —  only  the 
waiting-maid,  with  her  caprice,  her  little  tricks,  her  smart  play  of 
fickle  alluring,  then  thrusting  aside ;  her  alluring,  provoking,  and 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  21 

growing  angry,  in  order  then  to  soften  down  again,  once  more  to 
withdraw,  —  only  she  maintains  the  continual  unrest.  Especially  is 
this  the  case  when  a  man  has  become  her  sport  who  himself  is  a 
great  and  simple  nature,  and  who  takes  such  a  being,  whom  he  can- 
not see  through,  with  the  full  tragic  of  his  own  earnest  and  profound 
nature.  From  all  this,  Donna  Ottavia,  you  see  how  the  inscription 
of  your  husband  contains  a  high  tribute  to  your  excellence." 

Donna  Ottavia  shook  her  head. 

"You  take  it  as  a  German,  Signer  Conte.  You  interpret  it  ac- 
cording to  your  own  disposition.  I  wager  my  lord  and  spouse  did 
not  think  of  all  this.  He  is  a  philosopher,  a  Stoic, — one  of  those 
unfortunately  enviable  ones  to  whom  the  world  can  give  nothing 
more,  and  from  whom  it  can  take  nothing,  because  they  believe 
themselves  to  have  everything  within  them,  and  find  in  their  inner 
world  a  full  sufficiency.  So  has  he  understood  the  'magna  qnies!  " 

"You  do  me  wrong,"  replied  Signor  Callisto,  laughing.  "I  have 
never  been  a  Stoic  toward  you  ;  when  I  saw  your  countenance,  there 
was  always  as  little  philosophy  in  me  as  in  a  love  ditty  that  a  singer 
pours  forth,  accompanied  by  his  lute,  under  the  balcony  of  his 
beloved,  by  the  shimmer  of  the  stars  of  a  summer  night,  by  the 
murmuring  of  a  fountain,  and  in  the  fragrance  of  orange  blossoms. 
Indeed,  philosophy  was  not  strong  in  me  in  such  moments.  We 
men  of  the  south  may  not  be  able  to  know  the  still,  emotion- 
spinning  disposition  of  the  German  of  which  you  speak ;  but  there 
is  living  in  our  natures  something  different,  more  powerful,  more 
poignant.  It  is  the  inextinguishable  longing  for  the  wife  from 
whom  our  whole  nature  receives  tone  and  tuning,  from  whom  it 
becomes  eternally  filled,  thus  making  our  natures  musical ;  for  only 
music  can  express  this  longing.  Wherever  one  of  us  strikes  a  musi- 
cal tone,  there  also  breaks  forth  this  longing  in  all  its  might,  and 
therefore  our  music  has  always  the  same  purport." 

"Your  inscription,  then,"  said  Donna  Ottavia,  interrupting  him 
here,  "says  nothing  more  than  this  :  since  I  have  become  your  wife, 
this  longing  no  more  constrains  you  to  strike  the  lute,  and  with  a 
voice  of  moderate  compass  and  of  a  culture  which  leaves  much 
yet  to  be  wished  for,  to  disturb  the  quiet  of  the  still  summer 
nights." 

All  laughed,  and  Count  Egino  then  said  :  — 

"  Let  us  leave  the  inscription  alone  ;  let  it  mean  what  it  may,  it 
shows,  in  any  case,  how  rich  the  world  is,  and  how  full  of  meaning 


22  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

every  single  thing  in  it.  One  needs  only  to  look  around  him,  as  here 
from  this  portico,  in  order  to  discover  a  thousand  objects  which  cap- 
tivate our  minds,  and  set  our  souls  to  vibrating ;  one  needs  only  to 
read  two  words,  as  the  inscription  on  your  house,  to  find  material  for 
an  hour's  discussion." 

"Until  one  has  learned,"  interposed  Callisto,  "to  find  for  the  dis- 
turbed soul  the  anchor-ground  of  such  a  quies,  and  to  let  his  mind  be 
no  more  taken  captive,  but  to  make  himself  strong  to  resist  disturb- 
ing impressions." 

"That  is  hard  to  learn,"  answered  Egino.  "The  wealth  of  the 
world,  and  even  of  the  world  which  surrounds  me  here,  stirs  my  soul 
to  its  lowest  depths,  and  hurries  my  mind  now  to  this,  now  to  that 
form  which  rises  before  me  here,  now  in  this,  now  in  that  realm  of 
thought  and  feeling.  It  has  about  it  something  distracting.  I  wish 
at  times  to  cry  out,  'Whence  can  I  go  to  save  myself  from  this 
Rome ! '  There  is  the  Old  World,  with  its  monuments,  its  ruins, 
its  broken  columns,  its  mutilated  works  of  marble ;  there  are  the 
structures  of  stone  reaching  high  in  the  air,  whose  proud  outlines 
fill  me  with  thoughts  of  the  greatness,  the  mental  superiority  of 
the  Ancients  ;  there  are  the  dazzling  statues  of  antique  art,  the 
marble  figures  of  gods  and  heroes,  from  which  the  conception  of 
the  beautiful,  I  might  say,  overwhelms  me !  There  are  all  the  crea- 
tions of  Christian  Rome,  —  its  basilicas,  its  graves  of  the  martyrs, 
its  stone  and  metal  wrought  traditions  of  the  most  sublime  mystery, 
of  the  deeds  of  the  incarnate  God,  who  now  makes  gods  of  men. 
There  is  the  Holy  Father,  surrounded  by  every  earthly  splendor,  — 
that  wonderful  man  who,  in  his  double  nature,  belonging  half  to 
earth,  half  to  heaven,  stands  with  his  feet  upon  the  grave  of  the 
Apostles,  with  his  infallible  head  reaching  high  above  our  circle  of 
vision  into  the  clouds  of  heaven,  where  the  Holy  Spirit  whispers  to 
him  his  inspirations.  There  is  the  middle  point  of  the  world,  the 
point  whence  the  culture  of  Western  humanity  goes  out,  whither 
their  veneration,  their  thoughts,  their  cryings  for  help,  flow  back. 
Beneath  my  steps  resound  the  vaults  of  the  Catacombs,  —  the  mine 
which,  silently  dug  out  under  the  earth  of  the  heathen  world,  at  last 
scatters  this  into  the  air ;  beneath  my  footsteps  here  rises  the  dust 
which  perhaps  contains  the  ashes  of  the  Scipios,  of  the  Caesars.  In 
the  storm  which  rages  over  my  head,  I  hear  now  the  boisterous  shout 
of  the  common  people  at  the  triumphal  procession  of  their  emperors ; 
now  the  howl  of  pain  from  those  beaten  and  dying  under  the  claws 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  23 

of  the  beasts  of  the  arena ;  now  the  shrill  outcry  of  the  mob  which 
destroys  the  golden  statues  of  Nero.  I  cannot  look  upon  the  rolling 
waves  of  the  Tiber  there  but,  in  imagination,  I  see  the  statues  of 
gods  which  rest  upon  its  bottom  ;  I  cannot  see  the  Aurelian  Wall 
jutting  out,  but  it  places  before  me  the  armed  pretorian  host,  as  they 
strode  over  its  battlements,  their  glance  turned  to  the  North,  whence 
the  armies  of  Alaric  and  Theodoric,  the  gigantic  Goths,  threateningly 
approached.  Thus  aroused,  taken  by  storm,  agitated,  yes,  often  in- 
toxicated, if  you  would  so  name  it,  —  whence,  then,  shall  come  to  the 
soul  this  profound  quiet,  this  magnet  quies?" 

Donna  Ottavia  had  listened  in  silence  to  the  young  man  all  aglow 
with  his  theme  ;  now  she  said  :  — 

"  You  have  been  thrown  a  stranger  into  this  world,  Signor  Conte 
Gino,  and  you  are  young ;  what  so  moves  you  and  will  not  let  you 
rest  may  have  this  influence  upon  your  heart,  because  this  heart  is  free 
from  thoughts  of  its  own  existence.  As  the  flood  when  the  sluices 
are  open  pours  into  an  empty  channel,  so  the  rich  world  surround- 
ing you  here  pours  its  influence  into  your  inner  being.  When  you 
have  grown  older,  and  a  life  of  its  own  has  formed  itself  in  the  depths 
of  your  soul,  filling  it  full,  then  the  pressure  of  this  flood-tide,  find- 
ing no  longer  a  deep  and  empty  channel  to  fill,  ceases  of  itself ;  and 
if  you  are  then  again  at  home,  some  loving  hand  will  surely  dare  to 
write  upon  your  German  balcony  what  Signor  Callisto  inscribed  for 
me  upon  the  frieze  of  our  little  dwelling." 

"Good  Heaven  !"  exclaimed  Egino.  "When  the  heart  is  so  full, 
do  you  call  it  without  a  life  of  its  own,  and  altogether  empty  ?  A 
soul  which  is  inflamed  with  all  the  beauty  of  the  world  ;  a  will  which. 
is  resolved  to  weave  into  its  life,  as  in  a  garland,  only  the  great  and 
glorious,  and  a  spirit  which  revels  in  the  blessed  foretaste  of  'this 
greatness  and  glory,  —  do  you  call  this  still  without  a  life  of  its  own,, 
still  empty  ?  " 

"  Conte  Gino,"  replied  Ottavia,  "  you  are  to  some  extent  a  poet, 
and  therefore  can  I  not  make  myself  intelligible  to  you  with  my 
thought,  which  will  seem  to  you  .tame.  But  there  are  two  kinds 
of  poesy, — one  in  our  breast,  the  other  in  our  heart;  the  one 
belongs  to  enthusiastic  men,  the  other  to  more  sober-feeling  women ; 
the  one  impels  to  conquer  the  great  and  glorious  and  makes  proud, 
the  other  teaches  to  protect,  to  foster,  to  help,  and  makes  humble ;: 
the  one  feeds  itself  upon'  the  great  and  powerful,  the  one  agitates, 
the  other  quiets  ;  the  one  looks  upon  the  sun,  and  with  all-control- 


24  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

ling  hand  turns  at  his  will  the  flame-hoofed  span  of  Phoebus,  the 
other  lifts  its  glance  to  a  beautiful  distant  star  of  the  night,  and,  full 
of  renunciation,  sees  it  sink  into  the  dark  ocean, — and  that  is  the 
poesy  of  which  I  say,  that  it  will  also  sometime  come  to  you  ;  for  it 
alone  truly  fills  the  heart  of  man,  and  brings  to  him  that  happiness 
of  rest.  You  do  not  understand  me,  Don  Gino  ?  Go  fall  in  love, 
then  —  fall  a  little  unfortunately  in  love,  and  you  will  understand 
me." 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  advice,  Donna  Ottavia,"  responded  Egino, 
laughing,  "  but  I  think  I  shall  not  follow  it.  I  am  much  too  busy 
for  that,  and  a  love,  at  the  same  time  an  unfortunate  one,  might  dis- 
turb me." 

"  What  can  a  young  son  of  a  prince,  like  yourself,  have  so  urgent 
to  do?" 

"  Enough  in  order  for  me  to  see  the  days  rapidly,  as  the  fabric  of  a 
dream,  fly  past  me.  To-day,  for  example,  I  have  to  go  through  with 
your  husband  the  manuscript  which  Signer  Callisto  has  prepared  in 
the  process  which  I  carry  on  here  in  the  ecclesiastical  court ;  then, 
after  dinner,  have  I  promised  to  go  with  some  friends  to  the  Colos- 
seum, where  a  bull-fight  is  to  take  place ;  and  in  the  evening, 
finally,  must  I  repair  to  the  Albergo  dei  Pellegrini  Tedeschi,  in  order 
to  look  after  a  remarkable  fellow-countryman  and  his  pretty  niece, 
whom  I  met  just  now  at  the  Aqua  Acetosa,  as  I  was  riding  by.  I 
promised  to  render  them  assistance  upon  their  locating  in  Rome." 

"Because  the  niece  was  pretty?"  asked  Donna  Ottavia,  smiling. 

"  Not  on  that  account,  but  because  I  struck  her,  and  wish  to  make 
amends  for  the  injury." 

"You  have  struck  her?     Impossible.     A  man  strike  a  woman  !" 

"In  Italy !"  answered  Egino.  "We  Germans  are  ruder  in  this 
respect,  I  am  sorry  to  say ;  although  I  have  not  acted  so  ungallantly 
as  my  words  might  make  you  believe.  The  maiden,  for  the  sake  of 
safety  on  her  long  journey,  had  clothed  herself  as  a  boy.  I  asked  of 
this  fellow  a  little  assistance,  and  when  it  was  denied  me,  I  in  thought- 
less anger  went  at  him  with  my  whip — the  youngster  seemed  to  me 
so  stiffnecked  !  I  did  not  know  that  it  was  a  girl,  and  that  both  were 
German.  Am  I  not  right  to  wish  to  make  it  good  again  ? " 

"  That  you  are,  Don  Gino ;  only  don't  make  it  too  good," 
laughed  the  lady  from  the  house. 

"  Now  to  our  work,"  broke  in  Signer  Callisto,  rising  ;  "  I  also  have 
much  to  do.  I  have  to-day  to  prepare  a  marriage  contract  for  a 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  25 

couple  out  of  one  of  the  greatest  houses  of  Rome  for  a  remarkable 
marriage.  I  must  concentrate  my  mind  very  closely  upon  the  mat- 
ter, in  order  that  I  may  guard  the  interests  of  both  clients,  and  that 
the  stronger  of  the  two  may  not  obtain  too  fully  the  lion's  share." 

"You  speak  of  the  Savelli.  Will  this  marriage  indeed  take  place  ? 
The  poor  girl !  "  exclaimed  Donna  Ottavia.  "I  beg  of  you  consider 
her  welfare  so  as  to  make  her  independent  as  possible  ;  make  her 
remain  the  mistress  of  her  own  fortune,  so  far  as  you  can  accomplish 
this  for  her." 

"Certainly  I  will  do  what  I  can,"  responded  Signer  Callisto.  "We 
jurists,  when  we  forge  such  bonds,  are  not  so  inexorable  as  the 
priests,  who,  because  they  themselves  cannot  have  a  wife,  make  for 
others  chains  of  iron  which  cannot  be  broken.  But  now  come, 
Signer  Conte,  to  our  business." 

With  these  words  the  lawyer  opened  the  door  leading  to  the 
interior  of  the  house,  in  order  to  conduct  Egino  into  his  study,  and 
there  to  lay  before  him  what  he  had  written  and  done  as  his  attorney 
at  the  Roman  court  in  the  affair  which  had  brought  the  young 
German  to  Rome. 


CHAPTER  III. 


IRMGARD. 


N  hour  before  Ave  Maria,  Egino  went  to  the  German 
Wayfarer's  Inn,  which  lay  not  far  from  the  Piazza 
Navona,  in  a  narrow  and  dirty  street  where,  later,  the 
German  Hospital  arose.  There  stood  at  this  time  the 
national  church,  Santa  Maria  del  Anima,  built  by  the  contributions 
of  Germans  and  Dutch.  Begun  in  the  Jubilee  year  1500,  it  now 
approached  completion.  Near  by  lay  the  inn.  In  this  old,  many- 
storied  building  Egino  had  to  search  long,  to  grope  through  dark 
corridors,  till  he  reached  a  large  but  dark  chamber  with  a  single 
window  looking  out  upon  the  narrow  street.  In  this  room,  two  of 
the  three  new  acquaintances  formed  at  Aqua  Acetosa,  Irmgard  and 
Uncle  Kraps,  had  during  this  interval  really  found  shelter. 

Uncle  Kraps  sat  at  the  window ;  he  had  upon  a  little  table  near 
him  a  straw-covered  bottle  of  the  clear  wine  of  Orvieto  and  a  plate 
with  slices  of  bright  yellow  anise-bread,  and  upon  his  grotesque 
countenance  lay  the  expression  of  unspeakable  delight  and  satisfac- 
tion. 

In  spite  of  the  warm  weather,  Uncle  Kraps  had  the  window  shut. 
He  saw  through  the  little  panes  of  glass  the  front  of  the  house  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  narrow  street ;  still  he  had  his  delight  in  these 
panes,  through  which  he  could  look  as  if  he  were  a  man  of  rank.  In 
the  North,  at  that  time,  they  were  indeed  still  a  costly  article ;  in 
England,  a  Duke  of  Northumberland,  when  he  would  leave  one  of 
his  castles,  had  his  window-panes  taken  out  and  packed  away,  that 
they  might  be  safer  in  his  absence.  At  home,  in  Ulm,  Uncle  Kraps 
had  not  known  such  a  luxury.  There,  the  cathedral  and  some 
houses  of  the  richest  patricians  had  glazed  windows,  but  the  common 
citizen  had  wooden  shutters  before  the  cross-bars,  which  he  could 
open  when  he  wished  to  have  light  or  to  look  out. 

26 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  27 

The  German  donkey  must  have  found  a  stall  somewhere  else, 
where  he,  in  the  companionship  of  his  Roman  brethren,  could 
amply  enrich  his  silent  meditation.  The  baskets  which  he  had 
borne  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  room;  just  as  Egino  entered,  Irmgard 
shut  up  a  closet  in  which  she  had  stored  a  part  of  their  contents. 
Irmgard  had  not  yet  laid  aside  her  male  attire. 

"  It  is  kind  of  you,  Count  Egino,  that  you  really  already  to-day 
come  to  look  after  us,"  said  she,  coming  forward  to  meet  him. 
"You  find  us  as  well  fixed  as  we  could  expect,  and  Uncle  Kraps 
is  well  satisfied  that  we  are  at  our  destination.  He  has  found  here 
in  the  house  a  wine,  supported  by  which,  even  though  he  must 
remain  during  his  life  a  bell-founder,  even  if  they  would  make  noth- 
ing else  out  of  him,  he  —  well,  the  drink  rewards  him  already  for  his 
pilgrimage  to  Rome." 

"And  you,"  said  Egino,  "you  have,  in  the  first  hours,  had  so 
much  of  the  glory  of  Rome  to  look  upon,  you  have  not  found 
time  to  change  yourself  back  to  a  girl." 

"That    is    about    so,"    answered    Irmgard,     carrying    a   chair   to 
the  window  for  Egino.     "  I  have  wandered   a  little  while  through 
the  city,  in  order  to  satisfy  my  curiosity." 
"  Alone  ? " 

"Alone.  Uncle  Kraps  was  too  much  fatigued.  It  was  unendur- 
able to  me,  after  we  for  weeks  had  wandered,  wandered  day  after 
day  without  rest,  up  valleys  and  down,  to  be  obliged  now  suddenly 
to  sit  still  in  this  room  and  dream  the  hours  away.  I  was  like  the 
tolling  bell,  which  swings  itself  out  slowly,  and  cannot  suddenly 
stand  still." 

"And  now,  as  in  a  tolling  bell,  does  there  not  hum  within  you 
the  noise  and  bustle  of  the  populous  city,  and  is  not  your  head 
in  a  whirl  from  all  that  you  have  seen  ? " 

"The  city  is  populous  enough,  and  a  gay  crowd  upon  the  streets; 
at  home  it  is  not  much  worse  at  the  time  of  a  masked  procession  or 
at  the  carnival  play.  I  have  seen  peasants  in  divers-colored  garb, 
.and  beautiful,  stately  women  with  ornaments  of  gold  in  their  ears 
and  around  their  necks,  but  with  torn  skirts,  and  leading  dirty  chil- 
dren by  the  hand.  I  have  seen  many  kinds  of  monks  and  clergy- 
men in  different  habits,  as  if  they  must  put  to  the  test  what  cut  or 
what  color  is  most  according  to  the  taste  of  the  beloved  God  or  most 
conducive  to  piety;  also  cardinals,  who  were  all  red,  and  sat  upon 
magnificent  steeds,  and  had  marching  near  them  an  armed  body- 


28  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

guard, —  wild  fellows,  country  summoners,  with  rifles  upon  their 
shoulders  and  long,  clanging  swords.  I  met  one  procession  from 
which  I  ran.  There  were  two  long  rows  of  men  in  light-blue  linen 
frocks  with  capes,  which  were  thrown  forward  over  their  heads,  and 
hung  down  to  their  breasts ;  there  were  holes  cut  out  for  the  eyes, 
through  which  they  looked.  That  frightened  me, —  I  cannot  tell  you 
how  much ;  they  looked  like  the  loathsomely  diseased  creatures 
which,  at  home,  slip  around  the  hospital  near  our  town.  So  fright- 
ful !  Why  do  they  disguise  themselves  so  ?  " 

"They  are  a  brotherhood,"  replied  Egino ;  "they  make  a  united 
penitential  journey,  or  accompany  funeral  processions,  criminals  on 
the  way  to  execution,  or  the  holy  Bambino,  the  Christ-child,  when  it 
is  carried  to  the  sick  to  perform  some  miracle " 

"And  one  time,"  said  Irmgard,  interrupting  him,  "I  met  a  troop 
of  soldiers,  who  surrounded  a  long  train  of  many  yoke  of  wild  oxen, 
which  were  dragging  along  great  heavy  cannon  upon  huge  wheels. 
Then  there  came  to  me  a  thought,  Count  Egino,  which  you  may 
know  how  to  explain  to  me.  If  our  Holy  Father  now  must  have 
cannon,  soldiers,  a  country  and  subjects,  why  does  he  not  then  rule 
the  whole  Christian  world  ?  Such  an  infallible  man  must  understand 
it  still  better  than  all  kings  ;  and  why  not  chase  away  these  stupid, 
fallible  kings,  and  obey  only  him  ? " 

"  You  are  right,  Irmgard,"  answered  Egino,  laughing  ;  "  he  needs 
only  to  proclaim  it  as  an  article  of  faith.  I  fear,  however,  the 
princes  of  the  Christian  world  would  not  believe  in  this  dogma. 
Mankind  now  are  in  such  a  state  that  they  yield  to  dogmas  very 
willingly  the  price  of  their  understanding,  their  better  judgment, 
their  mother-wit,  but  not  their  profits  or  a  productive  piece  of  land." 

"  Let  it  be  so,  and  it  is  not  our  business  to  decide  it,"  responded 
Irmgard,  who,  while  she  spoke,  had  stationed  herself  with  her  arms 
upon  the  back  of  the  chair  in  which  Uncle  Kraps  sat,  and  looked 
with  unembarrassed  glance  upon  Egino,  who  had  taken  his  place 
near  the  uncle's  table.  "Although,"  she  continued,  jestingly,  "it 
would  be  a  good  thing  for  Uncle  and  his  art,  for  bells  would  rise  in 
value." 

"  So  they  would,"  replied  Egino  ;  "  but  now  tell  me  further  what 
you  have  seen.  Were  you  in  St.  Peter's  ?  Did  you  not  see  somewhere 
a  great  and  beautiful  monument  of  the  past  ?  Do  you  know  I  find 
you  quite  lukewarm,  even  cool,  to  have  spent  your  first  day  in 
Rome?" 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  29 

"Does  it  seem  so  to  you?  Perhaps  you  are  right,  and  I  am  in- 
deed simple,  that  I  cannot  wonder  more  over  all  such  things.  I  be- 
lieve it  has  been  my  fault  all  my  life  long,  that  no  proper  joy  comes 
over  me  when  I  see  those  things  over  which  clever  men  often  break 
out  into  great  rejoicing  that  their  eyes  are  permitted  to  behold  them. 
Uncle  Kraps  says  I  would  have  been  the  right  wife  for  the  strong 
Michel,  who  wished  to  learn  fear  —  though  I  can  fear  already,  but  not 
wonder.  I  think  if  I  should  be  obliged  to  wonder  over  something, 
I  should  have  to  begin  with  the  sun,  the  moon,  the  stars,  with  the 
mountains  and  the  blue  heavens  stretched  above  them,  and  not  with 
the  works  of  men.  Where  should  I  there,  however,  find  an  end  ?  " 

"  Does  not  the  work  of  men,  even  when  it  is  beautiful  and  great, 
make  your  heart  beat  faster  ?  "  asked  Egino. 

Irmgard  shook  her  head. 

"  I  am  too  stupid  to  decide  whether  or  not  it  is  beautiful  or  great. 
My  heart  beats  faster  only  when  I  hear  of  something  right,  brave,  and 
good  a  man  has  done ;  and  most  rapidly  and  joyously  when  I  see  I 
have  made  this  deformed,  ugly  old  Uncle  Kraps  so  thoroughly  de- 
lighted and  at  home  in  these  four  walls.  When  I  think  how  mean 
and  heartless  men  often  were  toward  him,  how  utterly  alone  he  is 
in  the  world,  and  no  one  is  his  friend,  and  nothing  gives  to  him  a 
proper  sense  of  joy  —  when  I  then  care  for  him,  and  see  a  smile  of 
happiness  spread  over  the  old,  ugly,  dark-embrowned  features,  then, 
indeed,  my  heart  beats  higher.  Isn't  that  so,  old  Uncle  ?  "  she  con- 
tinued, smiling  and  bending  over  him,  and  laying  her  temples  upon 
the  gray,  shaggy  locks  of  the  little  monster  sitting  there  with  the 
grin  of  an  idiot  upon  his  visage.  "  That  is  the  best  happiness  when 
we  sit  at  home  in  quiet  contentment !  What  care  we  then  for  men, 
what  mean  thing  they  say  to  mock  us,  or  what  evil  they  do  to  harm 
one  another,  or  even  what  they  build,  paint,  and  bring  to  perfection 
of  the  great  or  beautiful  which  we  do  not  understand  ? " 

Egino  looked  at  her  a  little  moved,  indeed,  but  more  astonished  — 
it  was  so  far  removed  from  his  manner  of  feeling,  so  narrow-souled, 
so  contracted.  Yet  there  was  something  in  it  for  which  he  dared 
no't  condemn  it ;  a  something  that  —  Donna  Ottavia  need  only  to 
hear  it,  and  she  would,  perhaps,  have  shown  him  therein  a  new  kind 
of  poesy. 

"But  now,"  began  Irmgard,  again,  "I  have  already  spoken  too 
long  of  myself,  and  if  it  is  not  indeed  too  bold,  I  would  like  to  say 
it  is  now  your  time,  Count  Egino,  to  tell  to  your  countrymen  a  little 


30  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

of  what  leads  you  to  Rome ;  who  are  your  people  at  home ;  whether 
you  intend  to  remain  here  long ;  whether,  perhaps,  it  is  your 
purpose,  as  a  younger  son  of  your  house,  to  dedicate  yourself  to  the 
church,  and " 

"Dedicate  myself  to  church  !  "  broke  in  Egino,  shaking  his  head. 
"Truly  that  is  not  my  intention ;  I  have  not  been  educated  to  that. 
In  Bologna  I  have  for  three  years  studied  law,  along  with  many 
others  of  the  German  nobility ;  but  when  they  returned  home  over 
the  Alps,  an  elder  brother  of  mine,  now  ruling,  sent  me  here  to 
Rome  to  carry  on  a  great,  complicated  suit  which  has  been  brought 
to  the  Roman  Rota,  the  highest  court  of  justice  in  Christendom,  if 
you  have  ever  heard  of  it  in  your  life  before." 

Irmgard  shook  her  head.  "  No,  "  she  said  ;  "and  on  what  account 
is  this  suit  instituted  ?  " 

"On  account  of  a  contention  with  the  order  of  Augustines  over 
.all  kinds  of  right  to  an  estate  bequeathed  to  the  monks,  which  is  put 
in  fee  by  Belfried  of  Ortenburg." 

"  With  an  order  ?      And  do  you  hope  to  win  it  here  in  Rome  ? " 

"  Why  not  ?  We  believe  we  are  in  the  right,  and  always  hitherto 
that  is  something " 

"Not  much,"  here  put  in  Uncle  Kraps,  distorting  his  face.  He 
had  listened  very  attentively  to  the  conversation  during  its  progress, 
looking  first  at  Irmgard,  then  at  the  young  count.  "  If  the  monks, 
who  are  your  opponents,  see  that  you  have  a  right,  they  will 
immediately  drive  it  out  of  the  case  with  their  incense." 

"Their  incense  cannot  do  everything.  One  of  the  three  holy 
kings  brought  to  the  manger  frankincense  ;  another,  myrrh ;  and  the 
third,  gold.  I  do  not  think  St.  Joseph  looked  upon  the  last  most 
unfavorably." 

"Yes,  yes,  gold  —  if  you  have  enough  of  that,"  nodded  Uncle 
Kraps,  grinning.  "There  is  usually  none  too  much  of  that  in  the 
pocket  of  German  princes." 

"  Uncle  Kraps  !  "  exclaimed  Irmgard,  much  shocked. 

"  Let  him  talk.  What  he  says  is  indeed  true,"  said  Egino, 
interrupting  her.  "  But  when  money  must  be  had,  it  is  always  to'be 
found.  God  be  praised !  that  is  not  my  care,  but  my  brother's. 
Besides,  it  is  a  help  to  us  that  our  opponents  have  sent  here  a  fair- 
thinking,  learned,  and  quite  prudent  man." 

"  A  member  of  the  order  which  is  your  antagonist  here  ? "  asked 
Irmgard. 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  31 

"A  member  of  the  order,"  answered  Egino.  "A  monk  still 
young ;  he  is  from  the  cloister  of  Wittenberg,  and  is  called  Brother 
Martin." 

"And  a  learned,  intelligent  opponent  rejoices  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  for  he  is  an  honest  German  soul,  who  always  contends 
-with  an  open  visor,  and  from  whom  I  have  no  Italian  artifice  to 
guard  against.  I  shall,  I  think,  immediately  come  to  an  agreement 
with  him.  The  more  intelligent  and  shrewd  a  man  is,  so  much  the 
better  it  is  to  have  with  him  a  dispute  or  contention  ;  only  with  the 
stupid  and  weak-minded  must  one  guard  himself  against  falling  into 
strife.  And  now  farewell.  I  have  now  seen  that,  for  the  beginning, 
you  are  very  well  provided  for.  And  if  Uncle  Kraps  finds  hin- 
drances or  difficulties  in  exchanging  his  good  German  coin  for  a  blue 
or  a  red  official  hat,  then  come  to  me,  and  I  will  take  him,  if  every- 
thing else  fails,  even  to  that  opponent  of  mine,  Brother  Martin.  He 
must  then  help  us ;  and  he  can,  for  his  order  is  always  the  sacristan 
of  the  papal  chapel,  whereby  the  pastorship  in  the  Vatican  is 
pledged.  There  we  have  the  most  effective  tie." 

"And  you  believe,  at  your  wish,  this  brother,  your  opponent, 
would  be  inclined " 

"Just  because  I  am  his  opponent,"  said  Count  Egino,  laughingly 
interrupting  her.  "He  is"  an  evangelical  man,  who  has  felt  the 
•command,  'Love  your  enemies.'  You  should  only  first  see  what 
confidential  and  affectionate  enemies  we  are.  Now  may  God 
protect  you,  both  of  you.  Do  not  let  the  uncle  drink  too  much  ; 
otherwise  could  his  German  inoffensiveness  be  injured  by  this  bright 
yellow  Italian  stuff;  it  is  not  so  harmless  as  it  appears.  What 
were  harmless  in  this  beautiful  sunny  land  !  Be  careful  of  yourself 
also,  Irmgard." 

He  nodded  to  Uncle  Kraps  with  the  head,  reached  Irmgard  his 
hand,  and  strode  with  clanging  spurs  loudly  and  quickly  over  the 
stone  floor  of  the  chamber. 

Irmgard  stood  long  and  listened,  as  the  firm,  knightly  tread  re- 
sounded from  the  walk  without. 

"Why  do  you  stand  there  so  and  listen,  Irmgard  ?"  asked  Uncle 
Kraps,  looking  at  her.  "  That  is  a  fool !  Good-natured,  but  a  fool ! 
He  praises  his  opponent,  the  monk,  who  will  take  the  advantage  of 
him.  He  has  struck  you  with  his  whip,  and  now  he  demeans  him- 
self in  a  friendly  manner.  In  this  way  he  means  to  make  good 
what  he  has  done.  He  is  a  fool,  Irmgard !  " 


32  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

Irmgard  looked  at  her  uncle  with  a  countenance  upon  which 
great  perplexity  displayed  itself. 

"  Are  you  in  earnest  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Do  you  think  otherwise  ?     Can  you  forget  it  ?  " 

She  was  silent. 

"  Forget  ?  "  she  answered;  then,  after  a  long  pause,  as  if  arousing 
herself  out  of  deep  thought :  "  No !  I  do  not  believe  a  maiden  ever 
forgets  such  a  thing.  But  by  not  forgetting,  I  mean  other  than  what 
you  mean,  Uncle." 

With  that  she  went  into  an  adjoining  room,  in  order,  at  last,  to 
lay  aside  her  male  attire,  which  she  now  suddenly,  as  if  in  impatient 
eagerness,  threw  from  her. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

NOTIONS  OF  A  GERMAN  GIRL. 

N  the  next  day,  in  the  afternoon,  Egino  repaired  again  to 
the  Albergo  dei  Pellegrini  Tedeschi. 

When  he  entered  the  room  of  his  German  friends,  he 
found  Irmgard  in  her  own  proper  dress.  She  blushed  as 
she  saw  him  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  enter ;  and  this  blush  made 
her  very  pretty  in  her  dark  velvet  cap,  beneath  which  her  rich  blonde 
hair  showed  itself  in  short,  curly  locks  :  she  had  really  cut  it  short 
for  the  sake  of  the  journey.  A  brown  bodice,  trimmed  with  narrow 
black  velvet,  and  a  skirt  similarly  bordered,  displayed  her  form  to 
advantage.  It  was  all  very  simple,  but  Egino  found  her  much  prettier 
than  he  had  found  her  yesterday. 

"  I  come,"  said  the  young  man,  reaching  her  his  hand  and  nodding 
to  her  uncle,  "  because  the  thought  came  to  me  it  would  be  best  to 
take  you  to  an  intelligent  and  benevolent  lady  whom  I  know,  and 
who  is  certainly  in  the  best  condition  to  give  you  good  advice  as  to 
how  you  shall  begin  to  make  yourself  safe  here,  and  adapted  to  your 
surroundings." 

"That  is  extremely  kind  in  you,"  responded  Irmgard,  much  re- 
joiced. 

"  You  have,  as  yet,  rented  no  dwelling  for  yourself  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Well,  then,  come  !  Donna  Ottavia  Minucci,  to  whom  we  go,  is 
the  wife  of  an  attorney,  of  a  prominent  lawyer  ;  she  is  a  Roman  lady 
who  knows  her  native  city,  and  will  receive  you  with  pleasure.  Are 
you  ready  ? " 

"  You,  sir  —  and  you  yourself  will  conduct  me  ?  " 

"  Wrould  you  otherwise  find  her  ?  " 

Joyously  excited,  Irmgard  made  herself  ready  to  go  out.  She 
brought  out  a  pocket,  which  she  fastened  with  a  silver  hook  to  her 
girdle  ;  then  a  pair  of  gloves ;  a  kerchief,  which,  on  account  of  the 

33 


34  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

warm  day,  she  did  not  need,  and  which  the  German  fashion  allowed 
her  to  throw  over  her  arm.  She  then  bade  Uncle  Kraps  good-bye. 

"  Watch  yourself  well,  Uncle,"  she  said,  "  and  do  not  break  any  of 
our  things.  Don't  forget,  either,  to  pour  water  into  your  wine,  when 
you  drink.  May  God  protect  you,  and  not  let  the  time  become  long 
to  you." 

She  started  out,  and  Egino  followed  her. 

On  the  street  she  moved  along  rapidly  and  in  silence.  The  Ger- 
man maiden  was  noticed  by  many  men  whom  she  met.  The  blonde 
beauty  evidently  struck  them  ;  they  stared  her  boldly  in  the  face  ; 
made  loud  remarks  about  her;  remained  standing  to  gaze  after -her. 
Egino  was  several  times  on  the  point  of  trying  to  teach  these  shame- 
less creatures  better,  but  Irmgard,  with  flying  foot,  drew  him 
farther  on. 

When  they  reached  the  Porta  del  Popolo  she  drew  a  breath  of  re- 
lief. She  let  her  bright  glance  sweep  over  the  landscape  without. 

"  The  mountains  are  beautiful.  Are  those  trees  palms,  there,  on 
that  height  ? "  she  asked. 

"  No ;  they  are  sweet  pines.  The  palm  does  not  grow  in  Rome," 
replied  Egino.  "As  an  atonement,  however,  it  has  the  laurel." 

"  Out  of  that  they  wreathe  garlands  for  victors,"  responded 
Irmgard.  "  That  is  nothing  to  girls  and  women,  who  can  deserve 
only  a  palm ;  for  them,  indeed,  nothing  is  provided  here.  Rome 
appears  to  me,  in  no  respects,  a  good  place  for  them,"  she  remarked, 
perhaps  still  under  the  impression  of  what  she  had  just  experienced. 
"  I  wished  this  morning  to  enter  a  chapel,  but  they  rudely  thrust  me 
back,  because  I  was  a  woman." 

"To  that,"  said  Egino,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  "you  must  be 
reconciled,  Irmgard ;  there  are  many  places  here  you  must  not  dare 
to  enter,  for  they  are  too  holy  for  the  foot  of  a  woman." 

"  Men,  then,  are  purer  and  more  sinless  !  See  here,  if  I  do  not 
wonder  over  your  monuments  and  great  ruins,  these  are  things 
over  which  I  do  wonder.  Oh  !  there  are  so  many  things  in  the  faith, 
over  which  I  wonder.  For  example,  that  they  always  say  the  Saviour 
has  suffered  so  infinitely  much  for  us  sinners,  and  taken  upon  him- 
self almost  all  the  sorrow  of  the  world." 

"  Doesn't  it  seem  so  to  you,  then  ? " 

"  You  think,  now,"  said  Irmgard,  looking  timidly  at  Egino,  "  that  I 
am  a  veritable  heretic." 

"No,  no  ;  speak  on,  Irmgard." 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  35 

"Well,  then,  I  think  one  could  speak  of  suffering  only  when  he 
had  suffered  deeply  in  his  inner  nature  ;  when  he  had  been  deceived 
by  a  woman  whom  he  loved ;  when  he  had  been  forced  to  look  upon 
the  gradual  moral  degradation  and  destruction  of  an  only  son,  who 
had  been  his  sole  hope ;  or  when  he  had  found  his  beloved  daughter 
in  the  arms  of  vice  ;  or  when  he,  poor  and  infirm,  had  been  unable  to 
procure  bread  for  a  group  of  hungry  children.  That  would  have 
been  the  real  suffering  of  the  world,  an  anguish  of  soul.  To  be  put 
to  death  for  the  sake  of  convincing  men,  is  a  misfortune,  a  suffering 
of  the  body ;  and  who  would  not  take  that  upon  himself,  if,  thereby, 
he  can  redeem  all  mankind,  — pour  out  an  unspeakable  happiness  upon 
all  present  and  coming  generations, — yes,  even  make  God  himself 
happy,  who  need  no  more  be  angry  on  account  of  old,  hereditary  sin  ? 
I  mean  the  Saviour  must  not  have  suffered,  but  have  been  always 
very  happy  in  thought  over  all  that  he  was  able  to  accomplish  for 
man  through  his  dying  and  remaining  dead  but  the  short  space  of 
three  days.  I  speak  foolishly  enough,  no  doubt ;  but  you  yourself, 
Count  Egino,  would  you  not  die  willingly,  not  only  in  appearance, 
till  the  third  day,  but  in  earnest,  forever,  if  you  knew  that  thereby 
you  could  redeem  this  entire  holy  Roman  kingdom  from  all  its 
misery  ?  Would  you  not  joyously  go  to  your  death,  as  a  true  man 
does  for  his  fatherland  ?  " 

"That  I  would,"  assented  Egino,  nodding. 

"And  then,"  continued  Irmgard,  warmly,  "the  clerical  men  here, 
where  they  must  think  most  of  the  suffering  of  the  Master,  live  in 
such  full  enjoyment  of  life.  What  magnificence  is  lacking  to  the 
Pope " 

"  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure,"  put  in  Egino.  "When  he,  surrounded  by 
his  guard,  goes  in  procession  through  the  city,  borne  aloft  on  his 
steed,  amid  the  clangor  of  bells  and  the  thunder  of  cannon,  there  is 
no  one  who,  in  spirit,  sees  looking  over  his  shoulders  the  pale, 
anguish-stricken,  sorrow-filled  countenance  of  a  sufferer.  Also  those 
who  have  died  for  father-land  or  humanity,  have  always  gone  to  their 
death  rejoicing;  and  still  could  no  one  of  them,  as  did  Christ,  view 
with  the  glance  of  omniscience  what  salvation  lay  in  his  death  for 
the  humanity  of  all  times.  Thus,"  continued  he,  smiling,  "could  we 
explain  to  ourselves  so  as  to  understand  it  why  the  Pope  lives  in 
such  splendor  and  joy." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  continued  Irmgard  ;  "but  one  thing  is  still  harder  for 
me  to  comprehend, —  that  is,  why  God  has  created  the  lowly  and  poor. 


36  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

Here  upon  the  earth  is  only  misery  for  them,  and  they  cannot  come 
into  heaven,  because  they  have  not  the  money  and  the  time  to  make 
pilgrimages,  to  procure  masses,  to  purchase  indulgences,  to  pray  the 
whole  day,  or  to  give  anything  anywhere  to  the  churches  for  that 
purpose,  and  thus  win  heaven." 

"  But  all  these  are  dangerous  thoughts  for  a  girl,  Irmgard." 

"I  know  that,"  said  Irmgard,  earnestly  ;  "but  if  they  come  to  me, 
willing  or  unwilling,  I  must  think  them  out." 

"  And  do  you  also,  then,  speak  them  out  ?  " 

"No ;  I  keep  them  to  myself." 

There  lay  in  this  answer  an  expression  of  confidence  in  Egino,  of 
which  Irmgard  suddenly  became  conscious,  for  she  blushed  and  grew 
silent. 

They  came  to  the  villa.  Donna  Ottavia  led  them  to  a  seat  in  the 
shade  of  a  grove. 

The  young  maiden  from  Germany  awakened  in  her  a  lively  inter- 
est. She  had  Irmgard  relate  the  story  of  her  life  as  minutely  as  she 
was  able  with  what  readiness  of  Italian  speech  she  had  acquired  up- 
on her  journey,  but  which  was  even  now  diminished.  Then  Irmgard 
spoke  to  her  of  the  several  points  in  which  she  wished  advice  and 
information  in  regard  to  Roman  customs  of  every-day  life,  from  the 
chief  things  of  dwelling  and  washing,  down  to  the  preparation  of 
broccoli  and  artichokes. 

"There  is,  however,  nothing  in  this  of  interest  to  you,  Conte 
Gino,"  said  Madame  Ottavia,  laughing  over  it.  "  You  see  in  the 
Roman  earth  only  the  dust  of  Scipios  and  Gracchi ;  for  you,  there 
spring  forth  out  of  this  ground  only  the  shades  of  Horace  and  Taci- 
tus. That  also  cabbage  and  other  vegetables  grow  out  of  this  soil, 
that  the  descendants  of  the  Scipios  must  trouble  themselves  with 
the  cleaning  of  their  soiled  linen,  only  destroys  for  you  the  illusion." 

"Of  course,"  responded  Egino,  gayly,  "to  some  extent,  though 
not  so  much  now  as  at  first  —  since  you  have  spoken  to  me  of  a 
poesy  which  may  accompany  us  even  while  gathering  vegetables  or 
washing  soiled  clothing.  What  your  lecture  did  not  accomplish,  the 
words  of  Irmgard  have  finished.  She  has  given  me  the  example  of 
being  astonished  at  nothing,  and  thereby  has  poured  water  upon  my 
flame.  But,  while  you  are  conversing  together,  I  will  go  speak  to 
your  husband." 

"  Do  so,"  said  Donna  Ottavia ;  "  he  wishes  to  see  you,  as  he  has  a 
favor  to  ask  of  you,  Conte  Gino." 


LUTHER    IN  ROME,  37 

Egino  left  the  ladies,  and  sought  Callisto  in  his  study. 

"  I  will  not  disturb  you,"  said  he  to  the  lawyer,  who  was  bent  over 
parchments  and  papers.  "  I  will  go  so  soon  as  I  have  learned  from 
you  wherein  I  may  be  able  to  serve  you." 

"You  can,  indeed,  be  of  service  to  me,  Count  Egino,"  responded 
Signer  Callisto.  "  You  can  do  me  a  favor,  in  case  you  are  not  afraid 
of  a  little  trouble,  and  do  not  object  to  becoming  somewhat  acquainted 
here  with  a  member  of  the  house  of  Savelli  ? " 

"Neither  one  nor  the  other  is  the  case." 

"  Well,  then,  to-morrow  evening  I  have  to  appear  before  the  Duke 
of  Aricia,  in  order  to  witness  the  signature  of  a  marriage  contract, 
which  I  have  prepared  at  his  request.  On  that  occasion  I  should 
like  to  know  that  at  least  one  of  the  witnesses  is  attached  to  me,  and 
inclined,  under  all  circumstances,  to  step  upon  my  side.  You  can- 
not guess  how  stormy  it  often  becomes  in  such  scenes,  where  there 
is  a  final  decision  over  the  'mine  and  thine'  to  be  made  —  how 
well  it  is  for  the  lawyer  to  have  near  him  a  trusted  and  reliable 
friend." 

"  I  am  ready,  with  pleasure ;  but  there  must  be  something  ex- 
ceptional about  the  affair  that  you  do  not  prefer  one  of  your  Roman 
friends." 

"  Now,  for  one  time,  I  prefer  such  a  foreign,  unembarrassed,  inde- 
pendent friend  as  yourself ;  one  who  has  nothing  to  fear  and  nothing 
to  expect  from  the  people.  Is  it  agreeable  to  you  ?  " 

"  You  honor  me  with  the  request,  and  you  may  depend  upon  me." 

"  Can  I  come  to  get  you  to-morrow,  an  hour  before  Ave  Maria  ?  " 

"  Certainly ;   I  shall  be  ready  to  go  any  direction  with  you." 

"  So  be  it.  I  hope  it  will  awaken  your  interest  to  cast  a  glance 
upon  the  domestic  affairs  of  the  house  of  Savelli." 

"  Without  doubt !  And  now  you  shall  not  be  longer  interrupted 
by  me.  I  know  that  you  wish  to  work.  Also,  I  shall  expect  you  to- 
morrow. Shall  I,"  added  Egino,  smiling,  "  be  mounted  on  my  steed, 
armed  and  equipped  on  account  of  the  scenes  to  which  you  refer  — 
at  a  marriage  ?  " 

"  No,  no  ;  there  is  no  need  of  that.  I  have  made  a  wrong  impres- 
sion if  you  think  that.  There  will  be  no  warfare  demanded,  only  an 
opportunity  where  —  well,  where  four  eyes  can  see  more  than  two  ; 
where  two  men  can  think  more  conclusively,  and  better  oversee  the 
transaction  than  one.  And  in  case  it  should  be  said  to  me,  '  Change 
that,  or  insert  this,'  I  might  not  be  alone  when  I  must  say,  'I  dare 


,'587693 


38  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

not ;  it  is  not  possible ! '  You  may  take  your  horse,  however ;  I 
shall  take  mine,  for  the  road  is  long  for  me." 

"  Well,  then,  till  to-morrow." 

The  friends  extended  to  each  other  the  hand,  and  Egino  went  to 
find  his  protegee  in  the  garden,  and  accompany  her  back. 

When  he  came  to  the  two  women,  Donna  Ottavia  said :  — 

"What  your  countrywoman,  Irmgard,  needs  next,  we  have,  in 
this  interval,  fortunately  found, — a  suitable  dwelling  with  honest 
people  for  herself  and  her  uncle.  She  must  only  know  how  to 
find  the  way  to  the  Quirinal  Hill.  There,  behind  the  baths  of 
Constantine,  and  near  to  the  wall  which  incloses  the  garden  of  che 
Colonna,  lies  the  little  house  of  a  widow  named  Giulietta.  She 
occupies  it  with  her  son  Beppo,  an  excellent  young  man,  who 
supports  himself  as  an  artist.  Giulietta,  who  was  once  my  maid,  and 
then  married  a  mechanic,  a  dependent  of  the  Colonna,  has  said  to 
me  that  she  wishes  to  rent  two  rooms  of  her  house  to  well-recom- 
mended foreigners.  There  will  your  countrymen  find  the  best 
reception,  if  they  come  saying  I  sent  them." 

"  How  thankful  I  am  to  you !  "  exclaimed  Irmgard,  rising. 

"  Greet  Giulietta  for  me,  and  also  Beppo,  the  honest  fellow,"  said 
Ottavia,  extending  the  hand  to  her. 

With  the  promise  that  after  some  time  she  would  come  and  report 
to  Donna  Ottavia  how  she  had  disposed  of  herself,  Irmgard  took 
leave,  and  Egino  accompanied  her  back  to  Uncle  Kraps,  who,  fortu- 
nately, this  time,  during  their  absence,  had  perpetrated  no  kind  of 
mischief. 

"  When  he  is  left  alone  at  home  some  hours  together,  he  always 
either  breaks  some  utensil,  throws  away  a  lamp,  or  tears  up  some 
article  of  furniture,  in  order  —  well,  he  is  like  a  bear,  so  strong  and 
clumsy,"  said  Irmgard,  laughing. 

Egino  left  her  with  the  promise  that,  on  the  next  morning,  he 
would  send  his  servant  Gotz  to  guide  her  to  Giulietta's,  on  the 
Quirinal. 


CHAPTER   V. 


|T  was  on  the  following  day,  an  hour  before  Ave  Maria. 
The  lawyer  from  the  " Parva  domus"  had  been  punctual. 
Riding  upon  a  modest,  but  well-fed  pony,  he  appeared 
in  Via  della  Mercede  in  front  of  the  Albergo  del  Drago. 

Here  Count  Egino's  servant  led  to  and  fro  his  master's  beautiful 
German  thoroughbred,  ready  saddled  and  bridled. 

When,  now,  Egino  stepped  out  at  the  door  of  the  Dragon  Inn, 
booted,  armed  with  the  long  dagger,  and  even  then  drawing  on  the 
long  gloves  of  soft  leather,  Signer  Callisto  thus  accosted  him  :  — 

"  Truly  it  is  very  foolish  in  me  to  start  out  with  such  a  witness  as 
you." 

"Wherefore,  Signer  Legista ?  Do  you  think  you  will  not  obtain 
sufficient  honor  in  such  company  ? "  answered  Egino,  swinging  him- 
self into  the  saddle. 

"  No,"  responded  the  lawyer,  setting  his  horse  in  motion,  while 
Egino  rode  at  his  side;  "just  the  contrary.  You  are  too  stately  a 
personage,  with  your  proud  and  beautiful  German  head,  and  your 
entire  self  as  if  you  were  a  prince  from  the  blood  of  the  old  Gothic 
kings,  such  a  grandson  of  Alaric  ;  and  your  horse,  now,  with  his 
trappings  all  glittering.  But  you  leave  your  servant  at  home  ? " 
said  Callisto,  interrupting  his  speech  and  looking  around  as  if 
anxious. 

"I  leave  my  excellent  Gotz  at  home,  as  usual,"  answered  Egino, 
"  when  he  does  not  thrust  himself  upon  me,  because  he  thinks,  with- 
out him,  I  shall  be  fallen  upon,  robbed,  and  carried  away  by  bandits, 
as  a  child  whom  the  gypsies  steal.  To-day,  fortunately,  I  have  paci- 
fied him  in  regard  to  it.  He  thinks  if  I  ride  thus  alongside  of  jus- 
tice, violence  can  have  no  hold  upon  me.  Besides,  he  is  tired  since 
he  has  assisted  my  German  countrymen  to  remove  from  their  pil- 
grim quarter  —  up  on  the  Ouirinal  —  you  know,  to  that  woman  Giuli- 
etta,  whom  your  lady  recommended  to  us." 

39 


40  LUTHER    IAr   ROME. 

"Now,  so  much  the  better,"  said  Callisto.  "The  business  is  such 
that  I  do  not  wish  that  my  witness  attract  the  attention  of  the 
people  with  whom  we  have  to  do.  One  need  not  force  investigation 
as  to  who  you  are  before  you  have  signed  the  document  which  we 
should  execute." 

"  You  appear  to  me  to  enter  upon  this  business  with  great  dis- 
trust, Signor  Callisto.  Whither,  indeed,  are  you  bringing  me?  Is 
this  the  way  to  Monte  Savello  ?  " 

"  I  am  bringing  you  to  Santa  Sabina." 

•   "  On  the  Aventine  ?     That  is  far.     And  what  business  have  we  in 
the  cloister  ? " 

"We  are  not  riding  to  the  cloister  of  Santa  Sabina,  but  to  the 
house  of  the  Savelli,  lying  adjacent  to  it." 

"  But  the  Savelli  live  on  Montanara,  in  their  palace  on  the  The- 
atre of  Marcellus  —  on  Monte  Savello,  as  they  call  it." 

"  That  is  true ;  and  because  they  dwell  there,  it  is  seldom  they 
have  ordered  me  into  their  strong  castle,  which  lies  alone  up  there 
on  the  Aventine,  by  Santa  Sabina." 

"To  a  marriage  ?  " 

"  To  a  marriage.  You  must  confess  that  the  well-arranged  dwell- 
ing palace  would  be  a  better  and  more  commodious  stage  for  such  a 
family  event  of  a  joyous  kind." 

"Perhaps,"  rejoined  Egino,  "there  is  more  room  in  the  castle; 
perhaps  the  old  structure  includes  the  old  house  chapel,  which 
since  the  times  of  their  fathers,  has  always  served  for  such  occasions 
in  the  house  of  Savelli ;  or  there  is  a  similarly  good  reason  which 
urges  them  to  choose  it." 

Callisto  shook  his  head. 

"  I  think  you  would  yourself  not  consider  it  so  innocent,  if  I  should 
relate  to  you  something  concerning  the  bride  and  bridegroom." 

"Well,  relate  it." 

"  The  bride  is  a  creature  over  whose  beauty  those  who  have  seen 
her  seem  to  be  carried  away.  I  have  not  seen  her,  and  can  say 
nothing  about  it.  But  I  know  she  is  the  last  descendant  of  an  old 
and  rtoble,  perhaps  even  a  royal,  race.  She  is  descended  from  the 
Corrados  of  Anticoli,  out  of  the  Sabine  Mountains.  She  is  called 
Corradina,  and  her  hand  controls  a  large  estate." 

"  And  the  bridegroom  ?  "  asked  Egino. 

"The  bridegroom  !  That's  the  thing.  The  bridegroom  is  adapted 
to  her  about  as  a  boar  to  a  white  hind.  Not  that  he  has  yet  much  of 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  41 

the  boar  about  him.  Alas  !  no  ;  Luca  Savelli  is  wasted  away  by  his 
dissolute  life,  —  rotten  in  all  his  bones ;  a  fellow  such  that,  when  you 
see  him,  you  will  say  he  appears  as  if  he  had  been  dipped  in  the 
poison  suds  of  sin  which  flows  together  in  the  great  pool  called 
Rome,  and  then  washed  by  the  Devil  with  his  dirty  broth.  He  was 
a  friend  of  Caesar  Borgia,  till  Caesar  Borgia,  found  him  too  full  of 
vice,  and  chased  him  from  Rome.  Thereupon,  with  a  company  of 
bandits,  he  has  tyrannized  a  long  time  over  the  neighborhood  of  Nemi 
and  Genzano, — and  now  we  have  him  here,  broken  and  befouled 
through  and  through,  and  bridegroom  of  the  beautiful  Corradina. 
What  do  you  say  to  that,  Count  Egino  ? " 

"That  it  makes  me  pity  the  poor  creature  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart." 

"You  must  also  know  another  thing;  namely,  the  Lady  of  Anti- 
coli  is  a  ward  of  the  Duke  of  Aricia.  You  know  the  Duke  of  Aricia 
is  the  head  of  the  house  of  Savelli." 

"And  is  it  he  who  compels  his  ward  to  marry  this  monstrous 
Luca  Savelli  ? " 

"I  think  so,"  responded  Callisto.  "Luca  Savelli  is  his  second 
son.  The  oldest,  the  heir,  is  married  to  a  Colonna  of  Palliano. 
You  see  he  is  already  provided  for.  And  for  Luca  Savelli,  who  has 
long  ago  squandered  his  paternal  inheritance,  some  provision  should 
now  be  made." 

"  I  had  far  rather  carry  off  to  some  ogre  the  bride  who  is  to  be 
thus  sacrificed,"  said  Egino,  "than,  as  you  request  me,  lend  a  hand 
to  forging  the  chains  which  shall  bind  her.  Why  do  you  lend  a 
hand  to  such  a  purpose  ? " 

"  I  ?  Am  I  not  the  notary  and  legal  adviser  of  the  house  ?  What 
better  would  it  have  been  if  I  had  withdrawn  my  services  ?  Another 
would  have  been  found  to  carry  out  everything  according  to  their 
desires.  But  you  may  be  assured  I  shall  do  all  that  I  can  for  the 
protection  of  the  poor  maiden.  Into  the  contract  which  the  Duke 
of  Aricia  has  bidden  me  draw  up,  I  have  brought  seemingly  quite 
harmless  expressions  and  clauses,  which  yet  allow  to  her  the  most 
beautiful  play,  if  she  at  any  time  should  come  before  a  court  of 
justice  and  have  a  clever  lawyer  point  these  out.  I  will  keep  my 
eyes  open,  and  if  Corradina  lets  fall  a  word  which  betrays  want  of 
willingness  on  her  part,  it  shall  not  fall  to  the  ground.  You  see, 
just  for  this  reason  will  I  not  allow  any  dependent  servant  or  client 
of  the  house  of  Savelli,  or  yet  one  of  Signor  Luca's  bandits,  or  only, 


42  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

perhaps,  some  corruptible,  easily  shaken  Roman,  thrust  himself  upon 
me  as  a  witness,  I  have  begged  of  you  to  accompany  me." 

"Truly,  you  could  have  asked  no  one  who  is  more  ready  and  will- 
ing to  become  the  saviour  of  this  pitiable  Corradina,  and  to  break 
Luca  Savelli's  rotten  bones  for  him  ! "  cried  Egino,  greatly  excited. 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  fall  in  love  with  her,  as  you  seem  already  far 
on  the  road  to  do,"  said  Callisto,  smiling. 

"  You  must  at  least  concede  that  you  have  done  all  you  could  to 
lead  me  to  such  a  step." 

"  Could  you  take  as  a  companion  for  yourself  a  woman  not  of  your 
people, —  an  Italian  woman  ?  " 

"  I  seek  in  a  woman,  not  my  blood,  but  my  soul.  If  I  find  a  soul 
which  is  like  my  own,  I  care  very  little  whether  there  exist  in  her 
body  an  Italian,  a  Turk,  or  a  German." 

"But  your  princely  relations  by  blood  there  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Alps  ?  " 

"  I  think  what  is  good  enough  for  a  Savelli  is  good  enough  for  an 
Ortenburg,"  answered  Egino,  laughing. 

"That  is  a  remark  more  unprejudiced,  I  must  confess,  than  I 
should  have  expected  from  an  offshoot  of  German  nobility.  For- 
merly, they  considered  the  Gothic  blood  purer  and  nobler  than  any 
other  in  the  world." 

"I  am  not  such  a  fool.  I  know,"  continued  Egino,  "that  the 
Colonna,  the  Orsini,  the  Savelli  are  the  greatest  names  in  your  his- 
tory, and  that  even  two  Popes,  both  of  the  name  of  Honorius,  be- 
longed to  this  house  of  Savelli.  I  know  the  monument  of  Luca 
Savelli  in  Ara  Celi,  —  a  highly  artistic  work  of  the  time  of  Cosmo." 

"  The  senator  was  from  Rome  as  early  as  the  year  1266,"  broke  in 
Callisto  ;  "  but  their  stock  goes  even  higher  yet.  That  very  Aventi- 
nus  who  defended  one  of  the  Tiber  hills  against  ./Eneas,  was,  accord- 
ing to  tradition,  one  of  the  Savelli,  and  the  hill,  they  say,  bears  its- 
name  from  him.  They  are  lords  of  the  Castle  Savelli  bei  Albano, 
lords  of  the  manor  of  Albano  and  Aricia,  many  times  united  with 
the  Colonna  and  Ghibellines  as  they  are ;  they  are  hereditary  mar- 
shals of  the  Holy  Chair  and  warders  of  the  Conclave ;  they  also 
have  such  courts  of  justice  of  their  own  as  the  Corte  Savella  —  so, 
in  fact,  we  have  to  do  with  a  people  of  a  moderately  respectable  ex- 
traction. And  now,  since  we  are  beginning  to  be  beyond  the  con- 
fusion of  streets  and  the  stream  of  human  beings,  let  us  put  our 
horses  into  a  trot ;  we  have  still  a  good  bit  of  road  before  us." 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  43 

It  was  indeed  a  long  road ;  it  led  over  the  old  Forum,  on  to  the 
Palatine,  and  to  the  valley  once  encircled  by  the  Circus  Maximus, 
and  finally  upon  the  steep  declivity  of  the  Aventine,  which  the  horses 
had  to  climb  slowly,  breathing  hard.  On  the  right,  the  two  horse- 
men had  soon  the  mighty  substructions  of  the  Castle  of  the  Savelli, 
with  their  battlemented  walls,  their  towers  and  bastions  high  above 
them.  Higher  up,  the  road  turned  to  the  right,  southward ;  they 
reached  an  open  place,  on  which  some  old  cypresses  stood  ;  farther 
yet  arose  to  view  the  Cloister  of  Santa  Sabina,  with  its  church.  On 
this  side  of  the  latter,  lay,  dark,  massive,  and  gloomy,  the  house  of 
the  Savelli. 

The  open  space,  covered  with  short,  thin  grass,  surrounded  it  as  a 
kind  of  glacis. 

The'  building  was  in  the  style  of  those  castles  of  which  there 
remain  to  us  as  examples  the  Venetian  Palace  in  Rome,  and  that  of 
the  Signoria,  or  of  the  Podesta,  in  Florence.  They  have  a  lower 
.story  with  almost  no  openings  for  the  admission  of  light ;  a  lofty  first 
story ;  over  this  a  story  less  lofty  with  small  windows,  over  which  is 
a  row  of  firm  battlements  ;  here  and  there  is  a  small  balcony ;  over 
the  whole,  rising  aloft  from  the  middle,  is  a  quadrangular  tower, 
which,  above,  gives  exit  from  itself  to  a  platform  behind  the  smaller 
indented  battlements.  All  is  ponderous  and  gloomy  in  construction, 
" alia  saracenesca"  out  of  great  blocks  of  freestone  and  smaller 
brickwork  in  alternate  layers.  How  many  of  these  blocks  of  stone 
which  now  give  their  support  to  the  stronghold  of  a  Roman  baron, 
may  have  been  torn  from  demolished  monuments  of  antiquity ;  may 
have  once  served  as  steps  to  the  Flavian  Amphitheatre ;  as  socles 
for  the  columns  of  Jupiter's  temple;  as  sills  in  the  golden  house  of 
Nero,  or  in  imperial  castles  of  the  Palatine  !  Truly,  the  thoughts  of 
our  horsemen  were  not  occupied  with  such  reflections ;  they  rode 
through  the  open  gate  into  the  castle,  and  dismounted  in  the  court. 
In  this,  all  around  beneath  was  a  row  of  heavy  pillars,  which  bore  an 
arcade  formed  of  beautiful  marble  columns  running  along  on  the 
upper  story. 

In  the  covered  walk  beneath  and  in  the  yard,  all  kinds  of  people 
were  moving  about,  some  of  them  in  festal  attire,  some  —  and  most 
of  them  at  that  —  in  a  torn  and  wild  condition,  with  long,  uncombed 
hair  and  beards,  with  daggers  in  their  belts,  with  tied  shoes,  with 
skins  of  goats  which  served  as  gaiters,  with  lean,  sun-browned  faces 


44  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

and  cunning  physiognomies,  nothing  of  which  marked  it  as  a  com- 
pany invited  to  a  peaceable  marriage  celebration. 

"You  are  right,  Signor  Callisto,"  said  Egino,  when  they  had  given 
over  their  horses  to  one  of  the  fellows,  and  now  turned  toward  the 
interior  of  the  building,  "you  are  right  in  considering  this  wedding 
a  little  out  of  the  usual  way,  supposing  that  these  are  the  wedding- 
guests." 

"  We  will  find  the  proper  guests  above,"  answered  the  advocate. 
"That  rabble  there  are  the  bandits  of  the  Duke  and  the  poorer 
dependents  of  the  house  from  the  city :  these  last,  you  will  have 
observed,  have  clothed  themselves  in  holiday  dress,  in  honor  of 
the  day." 

Upon  the  broad  stairway,  leading  above,  servants  were  found  to 
conduct  the  new-comers  to  the  great  room  with  the  throne-canopy, 
which  adorns  the  ante-chamber  of  every  Roman  prince.  In  this 
room  were  discovered  even  as  few  of  the  guests  Callisto  had  expected 
to  see  as  on  the  outside. 

Only  two  men  in  the  black  garb  of  house-officials  walked  up  and 
down  in  the  room,  speaking  together  in  low  tones. 

"  Here  I  am  with  my  witness,  Signor  Antonio,"  said  Callisto  to 
one  of  them,  while  he  bowed  to  the  other.  "  Have  we  come  at  the 
right  time,  Signor  Giovanni  Battista  ?  " 

The  men  bowed,  and  Sor  Antonio,  the  elder,  said  :  — 

"  Everything  is  in  readiness  for  the  ceremony,  Signor  Mmucci ; 
we  will  lead  you  at  once  to  His  Excellency." 

The  other  had  already  turned  to  the  next  door,  and  opened  it,  in 
order  to  admit  Callisto  with  his  companion  into  a  smaller  room. 

In  this  room,  in  a  reclining  chair  at  the  window,  sat  the  Duke  of 
Aricia,  — a  small,  meager  man,  clothed  in  dark-green  velvet,  with  the 
golden  chain  of  some  order  on  his  breast  ;  he  had  his  hands  upon 
the  hilt  of  his  dagger,  which  he  held  between  his  knees.  Lying  upon 
his  hands,  and  supported  by  them,  was  his  sharp,  projecting  chin. 
The  face  was  that  of  a  bird  ;  but  by  this  crooked  nose,  these  small 
eyes,  lying  deep  beneath  thick,  shaggy  brows,  there  was  suggested 
to  Egino,  not  the  eagle  but  the  kite. 

A  younger  man  in  richer  attire,  with  his  arms  folded  over  his 
breast,  with  his  back  resting  upon  the  window-casing,  stood  before 
the  Duke. 

"  You  come  at  last,  Signor  Callisto ! "  said  the  Duke  of  Aricia, 
raising  his  head.  "We  are  waiting  only  upon  you." 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  45 

"  I  come  punctually,  Your  Honor." 

"  Whom  bring  you  there  with  you  ? " 

"A  young  German,  who  has,  in  Bologna,  studied  jurisprudence,, 
and  is  now  learning  with  me  how  that  law,  of  which  they  have  told 
him  so  much,  is  really  applied  in  our  practice." 

"  How  long  have  you  lawyers  been  taking  pupils  as  the  painters  ? " 

"  Wherefore  should  they  not,"  broke  in  the  younger  man,  laughing  ; 
"  even  though  they  paint  in  only  two  colors,  making  the  white  black 
and  the  black  white  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  the  Duke,  nodding  his  head  ;  "give  us,  then,  what 
you  have  painted  from  white  to  black." 

Callisto  drew  from  his  breast-pocket  a  great,  many-folded  parch- 
ment, and  reached  it  to  the  Duke. 

The  latter  began  to  read  it  attentively,  with  wrinkled  brow.  The 
son  had  stepped  behind  him,  and  looked  at  it  over  his  shoulder. 
The  twilight  began  to  be  observable,  appearing  after  awhile  to 
make  it  difficult  for  the  old  man  to  read. 

"It  is  growing  late,"  remarked  Callisto.  "Do  you  wish,  Your 
Honor,  that  I  call  for  light  ?  " 

"  No,  no  ;  let  it  alone  —  I  can  see,"  replied  the  Duke  ;  and  then, 
after  reaching  the  end,  he  said,  looking  at  his  son  :  — 

"I  think  it  is  all  as  we  wish  it,  Livio  ?" 

Livio  Savelli  nodded  his  head. 

4 

"Everything  is  in  it  as  we  specified  to  Signer  Callisto,  it  seems 
to  me,"  said  he  ;  "only  a  little  turned  from  the  speech  of  the  sound 
human  intellect  into  that  of  the  law ;  but  without  that  it  would  never 
do  for  Signer  Callisto." 

"  So  we  can  proceed  and  let  the  signatures  be  attached,  and  then 
go  on  with  the  marriage  ceremony,"  said  the  Duke,  rising.  "  Signer 
Callisto,  you  know  that  my  son  Luca  is  very  ill  ?  " 

"I  knew  that  he  is  ailing,  Your  Honor." 

"Ailing  —  well,  yes,  so  ailing  that  it  is  difficult  for  him  to  move  a 
member.  He  had  the  perniciosa>  you  know.  The  fever  is  now 
overcome,  the  hot  pulse  has  become  stiller,  the  wild  dreams  are  at 
an  end  ;  but  you  know  such  a  fever  when  it  subsides  leaves  behind 
it  in  the  person  a  great  faintness  and  debility,  and  therefore  it  need 
not  surprise  you,  Signor  Callisto,  if  during  the  ceremony  the  bride- 
groom seems  a  little  apathetic." 

.  "I  only  wonder,  Your  Honor,  that  you  do  not  await  his  restora- 
tion, in  order  to  have  him  married  then." 


46  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

"  Truly,  Signer  Callisto,  that  is  very  sensible  advice  which  you 
give,  but,  alas !  Corradina  will  not  listen  to  it.  The  maiden,  as  you 
know,  has  been  allotted  to  him  for  years ;  for  years  she  has  longed 
for  this  union  with  the  emotions  of  a  bride.  Now  the  poor  thing  is 
uneasy  and  afraid  on  account  of  his  illness ;  she  is  beside  herself 
with  the  thought  that  he  may  die  before  he  has  become  her  hus- 
band, and  so  we  must  yield  to  her  desire  to  marry  him.  She  will  at 
least  have  the  consolation  of  bearing  his  name,  of  being  his  widow. 
What  is  to  be  done  when  a  woman  resolves  upon  a  certain  thing  ? " 
said  the  Duke,  concluding  his  speech. 

"  You  will,  therefore,  also  find  it  natural  that  we  perform  the  cere- 
mony in  the  narrowest  circle  possible,"  added  Livio  Savelli.  "The 
marriage  ceremony  can  take  place  later,  when  Luca  has  recovered  ; 
to-day,  many  guests  and  a  noisy  feast  would  not  have  been  suitable. 
So  come,  now  !  " 

After  these  words  the  two  Savelli,  father  and  son,  turned  to  the 
door  of  exit  from  the  chamber :  on  this  account  the  significant 
glances  directed  by  Callisto  to  his  pupil  escaped  them.  Egino, 
however,  did  not  understand  these  glances. 

They  passed  into  a  great  room  which,  in  former  times,  might  well 
have  served  as  a  banquet  hall  ;  but  now,  despoiled  of  furniture  and 
darkened  by  the  twilight,  with  its  faded  frescoes,  it  appeared  very 
sad  and  desolate.  At  the  end  ofvthe  room  a  door  was  opened  by  a 
.servant,  who  must  have  heard  the  steps  of  those  approaching,  and 
the  four  men  stood  immediately  in  a  large,  occupied  chamber  more 
suitably  fitted  up. 

On  the  left  the  room  had  two  lofty  windows,  which  opened  out 
on  the  vacant  space  and  the  back  of  the  Aventine.  The  wall  on  the 
right,  opposite  the  windows,  ran  to  only  about  the  middle  of  the 
room.  Then  it  sprang  back  at  a  right  angle,  so  that  one  looked 
there  into  a  second  and  deeper  room  adjoining,  in  the  back  part  of 
which  stood  a  lofty  canopied  bed,  and  in  which  several  strips  of  car- 
pet covered  the  floor. 

Cushioned  reclining-chairs,  and  curtains  before  the  windows,  and 
bottles  with  medicine  upon  the  tables,  led  one  to  suppose  that  this 
room  was  prepared  for  the  nursing  of  a  sufferer. 

Opposite  the  door  through  which  the  Savelli  and  our  friends  en- 
tered, a  broad  stairway  of  eight  or  nine  steps  led  into  a  farther  room, 
which  lay  about  a  half  story  higher  up ;  in  the  background  of  the 
same  appeared  an  altar,  upon  which  burned  two  candles,  and  upon 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  47 

» 

whose  steps  knelt  two  monks,  who  wore  white  surplices  over  their 
gowns.  The  elevated  room  must  be  the  private  chapel  of  the  house; 
the  monks  must  belong  to  the  neighboring  cloister  of  Santa  Sabina, 
they  wore  the  Dominican  habit. 

Egino's  eyes  swept  over  all  this  with  hasty  glance,  in  order,  then, 
to  remain  fixed  upon  two  groups  of  persons  occupying  the  chamber 
in  which  he  found  himself. 

The  first  consisted  of  two  women  in  stately  robes  of  hardly  folding 
material ;  the  one  already  aged,  the  other  with  a  beautifully  cut  face, 
about  thirty  years  of  age,  in  the  transition  to  that  compactness  of 
form  and  dignified  fullness  which  so  often  robs  Roman  women  quite 
early  of  the  gracefulness  of  their  youthful  bloom. 

They  sat  talking  together  in  low  tones,  opposite  each  other,  on  the 
stone  seats  in  the  window-niche,  and  arose  now  at  the  entrance  of 
the  men. 

In  the  back  part  of  the  room,  near  the  entrance  to  the  sick- 
chamber,  stood  a  table  ;  behind  this,  in  an  arm-chair,  rested  idly,  his 
head  sunk  upon  his  breast,  his  right  arm  lying  upon  the  table,  a  man 
in  a  waistcoat  of  dark-red  velvet,  a  hat  of  the  same  material  encircled 
with  a  band  of  pearls,  so  placed  upon  his  head  that  his  features  were 
entirely  shaded.  Also,  as  the  men  entered,  he  lifted  not  his  drooping 
head  ;  he  remained  motionless,  and  as  if  without  interest. 

On  his  left,  her  right  arm  supported  on  the  back  of  his  chair, 
stood  a  great,  tall  female  form.  She  was  clothed  in  long,  flowing 
robes  of  white  silk  ;  a  wreath  of  orange  blossoms  rested  upon  her 
head  over  the  rich,  dark-blonde  hair  which  fell  over  her  shoulders  all 
unbound.  An  open-eyed,  candid  look  under  the  quietly  lifted  lids 
met  those  entering  ;  rested  upon  none  except  upon  Egino  a  short 
while,  and  then  turned  again  to  the  motionless  bridegroom. 

At  the  sight  of  this  form  Egino  opened  his  lips  as  if  he  repressed 
an  outcry  of  surprise,  of  astonishment. 

In  all  his  life  he  had  never  seen  such  a  maiden,  such  a  woman, — 
such  an  enchanting  woman.  It  was  a  woman  with  the  appearance 
of  a  goddess.  It  seemed  to  him  she  could  not  wear  this  wreath  for 
a  man  —  for  a  dying  man  ;  it  was  impossible  that  this  apparition  could 
have  anything  in  common  with  the  corrupt,  half-dead  mortal  near 
her,  around  whose  broken  limbs  the  folds  of  his  clothing  hung  loose. 
No,  no ;  the  wreath  upon  her  golden  hair,  upon  the  proud  head,  was 
as  a  wreath  of  espousal  to-  something  infinitely  lofty,  beautiful,  super- 
natural ! 


48  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

What  made  the  beauty  of  her  features  still  more  captivating  for 
Egino  was  the  great  softness,  the  indistinctness,  the  halo  which  the 
twilight  produced.  A  beautiful  face  that  rises  before  us  in  the  twi- 
light, receives  from  it  the  most  dangerous  charm.  This  Egino  ex- 
perienced in  this  moment  ;  the  charm  seized  him  with  a  force  as  if 
from  this  hour  it  would  never  again  let  him  loose.  He  stood  as  if 
rooted  to  the  earth  ;  his  arms  had  gently,  involuntarily  raised  them- 
selves, as  they  do  when  something  suddenly  lays  hold  upon  us,  — 
when  out  of  the  dark  heaven  a  meteor  suddenly  flames  forth. 

The  Duke  of  Aricia  had  stepped  up  to  the  table  ;  he  stood  before 
it,  so  that  he  came  between  the  lawyer  and  the  sick  bridegroom. 
Livio  drew  near  at  the  other  side  of  his  brother. 

"  Here  is  the  contract  for  which  we  were  waiting,"  said  the  Duke, 
spreading  the  parchment  on  the  table ;  "  put  your  names  to  it,  my 
children, — you  first,  Luca,  and  then  Corradina,  and  we  others;  and 
then  to  the  chapel.  Let  us  all  hasten,  that  we  may  shorten  the 
exertion  and  excitement  for  Luca  as  much  as  possible.  Livio,  help 
your  brother  with  the  signature  ;  his  hand  is  weak." 

Livio  had  already  gently  slipped  the  parchment  under  his  brother's 
arm,  and  he  now  took  a  reed-pen,  which  he  filled  with  ink,  and  forced 
between  the  fingers  of  the  sick  man,  and  then  took  his  hand  and 
helped  him  write  the  words,  "  Luca  Savelli." 

He  gave  the  pen  to  the  bride.  Slowly,  measuredly,  quietly,  she 
received  it,  and  wrote.  The  Duke  followed,  then  Livio,  then  the  two 
men  clothed  in  the  black  garb  of  higher  house  servants,  whom 
Callisto  had  greeted  in  the  ante-chamber  as  Sor  Antonio  and 
Giovanni  Battista,  and  who  during  the  foregoing  had  softly  come 
out  of  the  sick-chamber.  They  also  wrote  their  signatures  ;  then 
both  stooped  over  the  chair 'of  the  sick  man,  took  him  up  and  bore 
him  to  the  stairway,  up  the  steps  and  into  the  chapel.  With  pecul- 
iar looks  Callisto  had  regarded  everything ;  now,  turning  to  Egino, 
he  said,  in  a  whisper  :  — 

"  It  appears  almost  as  if  our  signature  will  not  be  desired  ;  we  will 
not  urge  it  upon  them.  I  never  did  write  very  willingly  in  the  dark." 

It  had  become  ( one  knows  how  speedily,  in  the  South,  night  fol- 
lows the  twilight)  so  dark  that  writing  was  indeed  becoming  almost 
difficult ;  but  Egino  saw,  by  a  look  upon  the  parchment,  in  what 
powerfully  firm  characters  stood  the  name  "Corradina,  Countess 
d'Anticoli,"  near  the  almost  illegible  "  Luca  Savelli,"  and  over  the 
excitedly,  unquietly  scribbled  "Geronimo  Savelli  d'Aricia." 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  49 

Those  present  had  betaken  themselves  together  up  the  stairs  into 
the  chapel ;  they  stood  as  a  guard  around  the  chair  of  the  sick  man  ; 
near  it,  upon  a  cushion  on  the  first  step  of  the  altar,  knelt  the  bride. 

One  of  the  two  monks  stood  before  them,  his  back  turned  to  the 
altar,  an  open  book  in  his  hand.  The  other,  as  his  assistant,  stood 
at  one  side  behind  him. 

The  first  began  to  repeat  some  form  of  prayer  out  of  the  book. 
He  must  have  known  it  by  heart,  for  the  light  of  the  two  burning 
wax  candles  which  fell  from  high  above  on  the  little  altar,  could  not 
"be  in  a  position  to  light  up  the  leaves  of  his  book.  The  whole  chapel 
room  was  very  low,  and  must  by  daylight  be  already  rather  dark  ; 
now  only  a  few  sparing  rays  penetrated  the  two  lower  windows  on 
the  left,  and  fell  on  the  remarkable  group, —  the  sick  man  in  his  chair  ; 
the  woman  kneeling  near  him  in  dazzling  white,  and  with  free-flow- 
ing hair  ;  the  monks  elevated  one  step  higher  ;  and  the  richly  clad 
men  and  women  around. 

Callisto  had  quickly  stepped  up  into  the  chapel ;  Egino,  as  if  drawn 
*by  a  charm,  as  if  caught  in  a  dream,  followed  slowly. 

Like  a  dream  to  him  was  the  whole  picture,  upon  which  his  eyes 
fell  staring,  while  he  stood  immovable  on  the  topmost  step  of  the 
stair,  which  was  also  the  threshold  of  the  chapel.  One  instant  he 
drew  himself  together  shrinkingly.  It  was  when  he  heard  a  "Yes  " 
pronounced,  the  "Yes"  of  a  man, —  not  loud  nor  strong,  but  uttered 
distinctly  and  quickly ;  another  "  Yes  "  pure  and  firm,  spoken  by  a 
.clear  feminine  voice,  followed. 

The  monk  then  turned  about,  by  which  movement  the  rays  of  the 
tapers  lighted  up  his  thin,  well-marked  face.  He  turned  to  the  altar, 
in  order  to  take  the  ring,  then  turned  back  again ;  and  thereupon 
followed  again  the  mumbling  of  the  monk  and  the  movements  of  his 
hands,  as  if  he  blessed,  then  put  together  hands  and  blessed  again, 
and  then 

Egino  felt  a  hand  upon  his  arm.     It  was  Callisto's. 

"I  pray  you  look  closely  at  the  bridegroom  when  he  is  carried 
past  you,"  whispered  the  advocate. 

Egino  turned  his  head  slowly  to  him,  as  if  he  did  not  understand. 

Only  a  few  moments  longer,  and  all  was  over ;  the  group  before 
the  altar  dissolved  ;  the  two  men  in  black  lifted  up  the  chair  with 
the  sick  man  and  bore  him  past  Egino,  down  out  of  the  chapel.  The 
bride  followed  close  beside  him.  Egino  did  not  heed  Callisto's 
admonition  ;  he  saw  only  her.  She  stepped  by  him  with  a  carriage 


50  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

proudly  erect,  with  immovable  features,  like  a  walking  statue ;  so 
she  descended  the  stair.  As  she  descended,  .Egino  gazed,  from  his 
higher  place,  upon  the  wreath  of  orange  blossoms  and  the  golden 
hair.  It  was  to  him  as  if  the  vision  were  sinking  before  him,  —  as  if 
she  went  down,  were  drawn  downward  into  night  and  darkness,  into 
the  night  of  her  destiny. 

And  then  all  disappeared.  The  little  procession,  having  come  to 
the  foot  of  the  stair  into  the  chamber  below,  turned  to  the  left  to 
the  sick  chamber.  The  folds  of  the  trailing  garments  of  the  two- 
women  in  the  rear,  as  they  disappeared  around  the  corner  of  the 
wall  at  the  stairway  below,  was  the  last  that  Egino  saw. 

Only  the  Duke  of  Aricia  remained  at  the  altar.  There  he  spoke 
in  whispers  to  one  of  the  monks.  Now  he  came  with  hasty  step 
after  the  lawyer,  who,  laying  his  hand  upon  Egino's  arm,  was  at  this 
instant  descending  with  him  the  stairway.  ' 

"Signer  Legista,"  he  said,  "now,  since  all  that  is  necessary  is  ac- 
complished, follow  me  to  my  chambers  above.  I  think  you  will  take 
a  little  recompense  for  the  failure  of  a  marriage  banquet,  and  empty 
with  me  a  goblet  of  Montefiascone,  to  the  welfare  of  the  young 
people,  you,  and  your  pupil  there." 

"  No,  sir ;  I  cannot  do  that,  if  you  will  not  take  it  as  ungracious  in 
me." 

"  And  why  not,  Signor  Minucci  ?  "  asked  the  Duke,  throwing  back 
his  head. 

"As  a  shrewd  jurist  not,"  replied  Callisto,  with  light  tone.  "If  I 
to-day  take  the  substitute,  would  I  be  found  absent  on  the  day  of 
the  wedding  banquet ;  and  to  that  I  will  not  fool  away  my  right,  and 
will  reserve  to  myself  all  claims,  if  you  only  knew  it." 

The  Duke  forced  himself  to  a  short  laugh. 

"Indeed,  you  are  a  man  of  foresight.  But  now,  if  I  quiet  you, 
and  vow  —  see,  there  comes  Livio  back ;  he  will  pledge  us,  as  also 
the  monks,  as  soon  as  they  have  laid  aside  their  priestly  garments  — 
so  follow  me." 

Callisto  felt  a  heavy  pressure  from  the  arm  Egino  had  upon  his. 

"  Excuse  us,  really,"  answered,  therefore,  the  lawyer.  "You  know 
I  live  far  from  the  Porta  del  Popolo ;  it  is  growing  night,  and  the 
night  is  no  one's  friend, —  or,  better,  it  has  in  Rome  too  many  friends  ; 
therefore  do  not  be  angry  if  we " 

"  Let  them  go,  our  legal  advisers,"  here  put  in  Livio.  "You  see, 
father,  they  fear  that,  while  my  poor  brother  is  so  weak  and  frail,. 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  51 

they  would  have  poor  companionship  for  an  evening  revel.  There 
may  be  more  cheerful  company  awaiting  them  —  so  bona  sera,  you 
gentlemen !  " 

The  Duke  also  now  insisted  no  longer.  He  reached  Callisto  his 
hand,  bowed  coldly  adieu  to  Egino,  and  with  the  words,  "Well, 
then,  Livio  may  be  right  ;  farewell,  Signer  Callisto,  and  accept  first 
my  thanks,"  he  turned  away  to  the  room  of  the  invalid. 

Livio  accompanied  Callisto  and  Egino  to  the  door  of  the  chamber. 

When  they  saw  themselves  outside,  alone,  both  stepped  through 
the  ante-chamber  with  the  haste  of  a  pair  pursued,  fleeing. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

WEDDED    TO    THE    DEAD. 


'AVING  reached  the  court  below,  the  two  men  threw 
themselves  with  the  same  haste  upon  their  horses.  In 
silence  they  left  the  Castle  of  the  Savelli. 

Outside,  Signer  Callisto  urged  his  horse  close  to  that 
of  Egino,  and  whispered  :  — 

"  Did  you  perceive  it  ? '' 

"Perceive?  Perceive  what?"  exclaimed  the  German,  with  a 
harsh,  tempestuous  tone.  "  By  God  !  I  have  perceived  what  suffices 
to  make  me  beside  myself.  I  am  deprived  of  my  senses  by  it ;  I  have 
no  more  control  of  myself ;  it  is  to  me  as  if  an  evil  power,  a  wild 
demon,  had  turned  my  soul  round  and  round.  I  wish  to  cry ;  I  wish 
to  weep ;  I  wish  to  kill  somebody,  especially  all  of  the  name  of 
Savelli.  I  am  no  more  myself ;  I  am  as  if  lost  on  this  maiden,  this 
marvelous  woman  ;  as  if  enchanted,  not  merely  in  my  thoughts  — 
no,  in  my  whole  inner  being,  my  every  muscle,  every  fiber,  every 
heart-throb,  every  drop  of  blood.  Callisto,  Callisto,  what  have  you 
done  to  me,  what  have  you  brought  upon  me  in  letting  me  behold 
this  image  of  a  woman, —  this  image  which  now  possesses  me,  tears 
itself  away,  withdraws  into  its  night  and  into  its  horrible  misery !  " 

Shocked,  Callisto  looked  upon  the  young  man  uttering  these 
words  as  if  in  perfect  desperation. 

"God  help  us!  "  said  he;  "you  hurl  disturbing  accusation  against 
me,  and  my  soul  is,  Heaven  knows,  disturbed  enough.  You  are  en- 
chanted, carried  away  with  the  beauty  of  this  bride  ?  Your  passions 
are  aroused  ?  To  the  devil !  You  will  not  be  a  fool.  You  will 
know  how  to  overcome  it." 

"  I  must  first  have  a  will  to  overcome  it,  and  I  have.  I  swear  by 
the  blood  of  Christ  only  the  one  will,  — that  is,  to  get  possession  of 
this  woman, —  to  tear  her  from  the  poor,  miserable,  sickly  dog  of  a 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  53 

bridegroom  who  could  not  move  a  limb !  I  could  murder  this  Luca 
Savelli ;  I  could  murder  his  whole  kinship,  if  I,  through  blood " 

"Hold,  hold,  Count  Egino ! "  cried  Callisto  ;  "do  not  utter  your 
madness  ;  and,  before  all,  do  not  pledge  your  soul  to  the  Devil, 
though  the  Devil  has  an  interest  in  it.  You  cannot  make  this 
woman  free  through  a  murder." 

"And  why  not  ?  " 

"  Because  she  is  not  wedded  to  a  living  man,  whom  you  might 
have  put  out  of  the  way." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

*  Where  did  you  have  your  eyes  ?  " 

"My  eyes?  My  eyes  rested  upon  her;  if  I  had  had  a  hundred 
eyes  I  should  have  seen  only  her." 

"And  did  they  not  rest  for  a  moment  upon  the — bridegroom  ?" 

"Only  long  enough  to  see  she  was  married  to  a  pitiful  manikin." 

"A  manikin  ?  No;  a  corpse,  Count  Egino  !  Corradina  was  given 
in  marriage  to  the  dead,  you  could  say." 

"  To  the  dead  ?  " 

"Yes;  Count  Luca  Savelli  was  dead." 

"  Dead  ?  "  cried  Egino,  loudly. 

"You  were  blind  if  you  did  not  see  it." 

"  Righteous  Jesus  !  " 

"  I  knew  it  very  soon,"  continued  Callisto,  "in  spite  of  what  they 
did  to  conceal  it  from  us.  Luca  Savelli  was  dead." 

"But,  for  Heaven's  sake!  for  what  purpose " 

"  Has  it  not  occurred  to  you  already,  then,"  said  Callisto,  speaking 
on  without  hearing  this  exclamation,  "  that  the  Duke  carefully  kept 
away  the  light  even  in  the  first  room  in  which  we  found  him,  al- 
though it  became  dark?  The  whole  transaction  was  appointed  for 
the  hour  of  twilight.  Also,  upon  the  altar  burned  only  two  poor 
candles.  That  I  brought  with  me  a  stranger  might  appear  disturb- 
ing enough ;  but  they  had  not  the  conscience  sufficiently  clear  to 
hazard  an  objection  —  and  they  had  no  pretext.  Didn't  you  see  how 
they  stood  all  the  time  around  the  dead  man,  in  order  that  our 
glances  should  not  rest  upon  him?" 

"  And  the  '  Yes  '  that  he  spoke  ?  " 

"  Was  Livio's.     Don't  doubt  it ;    I  know  the  voice." 

Egino  became  speechless  with  astonishment. 

"But  the  witnesses, —  the  signatures, —  the  monk  who  performed 
the  ceremony  !  "  cried  he,  then,  after  a  pause. 


54  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  Callisto,  shrugging  his  shoulders.  "The 
Duke  of  Aricia  finds  tools  for  every  purpose." 

"  And  you, —  you  yourself,  Callisto  ;  for  the  sake  of  eternal 
justice  why  didn't  you  tear  to  pieces  your  false  and  lying  document, 
and  cast  the  fragments  in  the  faces  of  these  dreadful  people  ?  Why 
did  you  not  say  to  me,  not  with  one  syllable,  what  you  perceived  ?  I 
should  rather  have  allowed  myself  torn  in  pieces  than  to  have 
looked  in  silence  upon  this  sacrilege." 

"  Thank  God  I  was  silent  !  Of  what  use  would  it  have  been  to 
speak  ?  There  would  have  been  enough  people  there  below,  under 
the  arcades  and  in  the  court,  to  make  us  harmless  ;  I  saw  down 
there  Lanfranco  with  his  sons, —  one  of  the  worst  cutthroats  out  of 
the  mountains.  Rejoice  yourself  that  we  are  safe  on  our  way  home, 
and  again  in  the  saddle  of  our  horses.  By  the  way,  you  might 
shorten  the  reins  of  yours  a  little  more  upon  this  steeply  descending 
road.  If  we  had  been  less  quiet  spectators,  these  same  horses 
would  now  be  stepping  under  a  pair  of  men  fast  bound,  going  east- 
ward to  the  mountains,  to  some  quiet,  solitary  castle  of  the  Savelli." 

"  And  if  also  this  heavenly  woman  could  have  been  saved,  this  ter- 
rible thing  would  not  have  happened  that  she  should  be  married  to  a 
dead  person." 

"  Do  you  know  that  so  positively  ?  Was  it  not  her  place  to  speak 
first  ?  Could  she  not  speak  the.  decisive  '  No '  ?  Do  you  know 
whether  all  this  did  not  happen  with  her  consent  ?  Whether  she 
is  not  proud  to  be  able  to  wear  now  the  name  of  this  dead  Luca  ? 
Truly,  she  appeared  as  if  she  gave  herself  willingly  to  this  atrocious 
play ;  her  brows  were  firmly  drawn  together,  and  her  lips  did  not 
tremble." 

"  Oh,  that  is  impossible,  impossible  !  How  could  such  youth,  such 
beauty,  such  fullness  of  life,  allow  itself  to  be  wedded  to  the 
dead, —  freely  fetter  itself  to  the  dead  ?  No,  no  ;  horror  and  despair 
had  turned  her  to  stone." 

"It  is  possible,"  responded  Signer  Minucci,  reflectively;  "it  is 
possible.  Who  knows  ?  In  the  first  place  it  is,  at  least,  certain 
that  after  some  days  we  shall  receive  the  announcement  that  Luca 
Savelli  is  dead  from  his  illness,  and  that  Rome  will  have  the  specta- 
cle of  the  burial  of  a  Savelli  in  the  old  family  vault,  in  Ara  Celi. 
They  will  be  kind  enough  to  invite  me  to  it ;  if  you  will  accompany 
me,  Count  Egino,  I  will  bring  you  away,  as  I  have  clone  to-day." 

"  I  could  hate  you,  Callisto,  for  the  calmness  with  which  you  say 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  55 

all  this,"  rejoined  Egino,  angrily.  "  Has  it  not  also  changed  your 
heart  in  your  body  ?  Has  it " 

The  lawyer  again  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Look  around  you,  Count  Egino ;  it  has  become  very  dark ;  but 
you  can  still  recognize  there  to  the  right  the  Palatine  Hill  and  the 
towers  to  the  palaces  of  the  Caesars  ;  the  height  there  before  us  is 
the  Capitol.  You  are  in  Rome,  and  do  you  wonder  at  anything  ? 
You  have  not  forgotten  how  to  be  astonished  at  men  and  their 
deeds  ? " 

"  You  must,"  he  continued,  as  Egino  did  not  reply,  "  you  must  be- 
come wiser,  and  learn  that  in  this  world,  whose  spiritual  structure 
has  the  miraculous  to  the  lowest  foundation,  anything  becomes 
possible.  In  yonder  elevated  chamber,  wherein  we  assisted  at  the 
marriage,  the  holy  Dominicus  once  slept  as  the  guest  of  Pope  Hono- 
rius  ;  for  that  reason  they  made  of  it  their  private  chapel.  Why  be 
so  horrified  if  on  the  altar  of  such  a  man  the  living  is  sacrificed  to 
the  dead!  What  begins  with  miracle  must  end  with  madness." 


CHAPTER   VII. 


COAT   OF   ARMS   OF   THE    HOHENSTAUFEN. 


JHE  passionate  outburst  with  which  Egino  confessed  the 
ineffaceable  impression  which  the  bride  of  the  dead  Sa- 
velli  had  made  upon  him,  had  about  it  nothing  too  vio- 
lent, too  fiery,  nothing  untrue.  What  he  had  said  to  his 
companion,  what  he  had  described,  that  he  felt ;  he  felt  it  in  uncon- 
querable strength  during  the  night,  which  he  passed  without  sleep  ; 
he  felt  it  on  the  following  day,  on  all  the  following  days,  during 
which  he  spent  the  hours  alone  in  his  chamber,  inactive,  dreaming, 
insensible  to  everything  else,  or  in  slipping  around,  seeking  out 
solitary  roads,  avoiding  the  sight  of  men,  shunning  even  the  voice  of 
men,  and  wandering  around  as  if  lost. 

With  his  clear  intellect  he  had  thoroughly  turned  over  and  medi- 
tated upon  all  sides  of  this  event ;  he  had  penetrated  with  his  sagac- 
ity into  each  of  the  questions  rankling  so  stormily  in  his  bosom  ; 
he  had  weighed  every  possibility ;  he  had  sifted  for  himself  every 
interpretation,  so  far  as  that  was  possible  without  having  recourse  to 
some  one  else,  in  order  thereby  to  obtain  explanations ;  he  feared 
from  Callisto  a  cold,  mocking  reception,  if  he  spoke  with  him  in  re- 
gard to  that  which  lay  so  heavily  upon  his  soul ;  he  shunned  so 
much  as  to  speak  the  name  of  Corradina  before  any  one  in  the: 
world. 

The  more  he  still  racked  his  brain  and  thought,  the  more  he  sank 
into  the  helpless  despair  which  had  taken  possession  of  him  —  the 
despair  of  the  will  in  the  fetters  of  passion,  which  runs  its  brow 
against  the  brazen  wall  of  the  impossible.  Impossible,  impossible  — 
it  was  indeed  impossible  for  him,  a  foreigner,  helpless,  to  make  a  way 
into  the  castle  of  the  powerful  race,  and  set  free  the  victim  who, 
according  to  his  conception,  had  no  other  rescuer,  avenger,  protector 
but  him.  It  was  a  thousand  times  impossible ! 

56 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  57 

Impossible  —  even  to  himself,  perhaps  especially  to  himself. 
Would  not  another,  in  his  place,  have  discovered  means  and  ways  to 
make  himself  known  to  the  Savelli  ?  to  win  their  friendship,  their 
confidence  ?  to  have  himself  invited  into  their  houses,  to  their  villas  ?' 
to  approach,  in  this  way,  Corradina,  to  search  into  her  thoughts,  in 
order  to  sue  for  her  favor  ?  All  this  another  could  have  done  ;  but 
Egino  did  not  think  of  such  a  course.  To  dissemble,  to  put  on  a 
mask,  to  feign  friendship  and  devotion  where  he  hated  —  hated  even 
to  the  death  —  his  honest  German  nature  was  not  in  a  condition  for 
that.  He  had  as  weapons  against  a  lie,  only  the  truth  ;  against 
trickery,  only  anger ;  against  force,  only  force. 

And  these  weapons  —  of  what  avail  were  they  ! 

Egino  felt  himself  sunken,  overcome,  lost  in  this  dreadful  situa- 
tion. He  could  not  extricate  himself  from  the  narrow  circle  of 
thought  in  which  he  was  entangled,  held  a  prisoner,  surrounded  as 
by  an  iron  ring,  which  robbed  him  of  breath,  of  the  power  to  live. 
He  could  not  tear  himself  loose  from  the  thought  of  the  unhappily 
wonderful  woman  and  her  lot,  and  the  fact  that  he  wished  to  rescue 
her,  must  rescue  her,  and  that  he  was  so  powerless  against  those 
who  were  destroying  her  young  life,  as  a  poor  bird  is  powerless  to 
overcome  the  walls  against  which  he  flutters. 

The  highest  blossom  into  which  the  life  of  man  may  develop  has 
three  petals,  no  more,  which  stand  close  together,  unfolded  from  the 
same  bud.  They  often  blend  into  one  —  how  often  !  They  are  love, 
poesy,  and  madness.  How  much  of  madness  is  in  poesy  ?  how  much 
of  poesy  in  love  ?  how  much  of  poesy  and  love-  in  madness  ?  Who 
can  say?  That,  however,  could  no  one  say  to  Egino, —  that  in  his 
love  there  was  much  of  madness,  that  he  was  sinking  into  it  deeper 
and  deeper.  Intellect  and  passion  were  in  him  as  if  whirling  one 
within  the  other,  and  going  astray  in  the  immensity  of  longing,  of 
desire,  of  burning  passion  for  this  unfortunate  woman  wedded  to  the 
dead. 

One  evening  Egino  came  home  tired  to  death  from  a  long  walk. 
He  had  been  wandering  about  in  the  Campagna,  among  the  ruins  of 
old  monuments  on  the  "queen  of  streets."  When  he  entered  his 
dwelling,  his  servant  Gotz  informed  him  that  Signer  Callisto  Minucci 
had  been  there  to  take  him  for  a  walk  to  the  Capitol. 

"And  what  should  I  do  with  him  at  the  Capitol? "  asked  Egino. 

"  There  is  to  be  some  great  person  buried  in  the  church  up  there," 


58  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

responded  Gotz.  "  Signer  Callisto  would  have  procured  for  you  a 
good  place  to  witness  the  solemnities." 

"One  of  the  great  of  Rome  is  to  be  buried  on  the  Capitol?"  ex- 
claimed Egino.  "He  is  named  Luca  Savelli,  this  dead  man?  " 

"I  believe  it  was  a  name  that  sounded  like  that,"  responded  the 
servant.  "Will  you  follow  him,  Master  ?  " 

Egino  threw  himself  exhausted  into  his  arm-chair. 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  I  need  not  see  him  buried  in  order  to  know 
that  he  is  dead.  You  go,  if  it  seems  enticing  to  you.  Go !  Yet 
hold ;  give  me  back  my  sword  and  my  mantle.  I  will  go,  and  you 
follow  me." 

Egino  left  the  house  again  in  haste.  The  thought  had  come  to 
him  that  at  this  funeral  the  women  of  the  house  of  Savelli  might  be 
present,  and  that  it  was  possible  he  might  see  Corradina  among  the 
number.  He  didn't  know  whether  or  not  the  Roman  women  were 
wont  to  appear  on  such  occasions,  but  it  might  be. 

So,  followed  by  his  servant,  he  walked  hastily  down  the  Corso  to 
the  Capitol ;  then  up  the  endless  succession  of  marble  steps  forming 
the  lofty  flight  which  leads  upward  to  the  church  of  Ara  Cell. 

The  portal  was  draped  with  black. 

As  he  stepped  into  the  interior,  that  was  hung  with  black  cloth 
and  lighted  with  innumerable  flaming  wax  candles  and  torches,  he 
heard,  coming  forth  from  one  of  the  side  chapels  at  the  upper  end  of 
the  church,  the  sound  of  a  mournful  funeral  dirge.  In  the  middle  of 
the  nave  he  saw  a  catafalque  surrounded  by  burning  torches.  It 
was  empty,  the  coffin  having  been  removed.  They  had  already  de- 
posited the  coffin  in  the  vault  of  the  chapel  above.  When  Egino 
reached  the  chapel,  he  saw  that  the  workmen  were  busy  closing  up 
the  coping  of  the  vault,  while  a  host  of  the  Franciscan  monks  of 
Ara  Celi,  standing  around  in  a  circle,  howled  in  a  doleful  manner, 
rather  than  sang,  a  funeral  song. 

A  great  crowd  of  spectators  were  scattered  about  in  all  directions  ; 
the  pall-bearers,  a  dense  crowd  of  men  in  mourning  garb  with  pre- 
lates clothed  in  violet  or  purple  between  them,  were  just  leaving 
through  the  upper  side  door :  the  whole  thing  was  at  an  end.  It 
seemed  that  no  women  had  taken  part  except  those  of  the  depend- 
ents of  the  house  and  those  of  the  common  people,  who  now  streamed 
past  Egino  right  and  left  leaving  the  church. 

Egino  also  turned  to  depart.  As  he  again  passed  through  the 
nave  of  the  church  to  the  catafalque,  his  eye  fell  upon  the  scaffold, 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  59 

adorned  with  a  covering  of  black  velvet  and  cloth  of  gold.  The 
ancestral  arms  of  the  house  of  Savelli  were  displayed  upon  it,  sur- 
rounding its  base  as  a  wreath  ;  at  the  head  and  foot  ends  was  the 
coat-of-arms  of  the  just-buried  dead.  The  last  showed  the  escutch- 
eons of  Luca  Savelli  and  of  his  wife  placed  near  each  other.  Upon 
one  were  the  lions  of  the  Savelli  and  the  swords  of  the  hereditary 

marshalship ;  upon  the  other,  the  escutcheon  of  the  wife,  however 

What  did  that  mean  ?  Upon  this  coat-of-arms,  on  which  the  light  of 
the  torches  fell  red  as  blood,  presented  itself,  upon  a  golden  ground, 
a  two-headed  black  eagle,  which  upon  its  breast  bore  a  heart-shield 
with  a  red  lion  rampant.  That  was  the  shield  of  the  German  gov- 
ernment, of  the  German  emperor,  — as  borne  by  the  race  of  Frederick 
von  Biiren,  the  race  of  the  Hohenstaufens.  Wonderful !  What  had 
the  Countess  Corradina  von  Anticoli  to  do  with  the  Hohenstaufens  ? 
Egino  stood  overcome  by  the  sight.  Was  that  pictured  coat-of- 
arms  a  legendary  writing  in  Runic  characters,  a  charmed  circle,  which 
held  him  bound  fast,  over  which  he  could  not  pass  ?  He  stood  and 
gazed  upon  it  till  the  church  was  entirely  deserted,  —  upon  that  coat- 
of-arms  of  the  Hohenstaufens,  which  suddenly  rose  before  his  eyes 
upon  the  Capitol,  —  upon  a  catafalque  ! 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

STANZA    DELLA    SEGNATURA. 

|HE  eminently  beautiful  and  extensive  square  in  front  of 
St.  Peter's  Church,  which,  adorned  with  the  obelisk  of 
Pharaoh  Rameses  VII.,  overlooked  by  the  dome  9f 
Michael  Angelo,  is  to-day  the  proudest  and  most  impos- 
ing expression  of  the  world-swaying  church,  appeared  very  wild  and 
desolate  in  the  year  1510.  To  the  mighty  church-building,  there 
was  still  wanting  that  crowning  dome,  still  the  fa£ade  of  Maderno ; 
there  was  still  lacking  those  two  projecting,  semicircular  colonnades 
which,  like  two  giant  arms,  lie  far  stretched  out  around  the  square. 
There  could  not  then  arise  in  a  sarcastic  mind  the  thought  that  all 
of  this  Vatican  basilica  lies  there  like  a  giant  crab,  with  its  two 
colossal  pincers  extended  for  prey.  The  building  was  surrounded 
with  scaffolds,  the  square  covered  with  blocks  of  travertine,  with 
cutting-blocks  and  stones  of  every  kind,  with  rafters  and  planks, 
with  arrangements  for  preparing  the  mortar, —  with  all  that  which  is 
wont  to  accumulate  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  new  building  for  years 
in  process  of  erection. 

And  still  much  more  than  to-day  did  the  palace  of  the  Vatican 
present  the  character  of  a  gigantic,  mediaeval  royal  castle,  with  high 
towered  walls  and  buttressed  pillars,  with  battlements  and  defensive 
stocks.  The  whole  Palazzo  Nuovo,  now  occupied  by  the  Popes,  was 
not  standing  then.  That  part  of  the  building,  however,  into  which 
the  admirers  of  the  artistic  glories  of  the  Vatican  overflow,  when 
they,  having  come  to  the  Court  of  San  Damaso,  turn  thence  to  the 
left  —  this  old  building  in  which  Alexander  Borgia,  Julius  II.,  and 
Leo  X.  dwelt,  was  even  then  covered  with  lofty  scaffolds ;  for,  under 
the  direction  of  Bramante,  they  had  even  then  begun  to  add  to  it 
the  loggias,  which  to-day  surround  all  three  sides  of  the  Court  of 
San  Damaso  —  a  structure  which,  under  Leo  X.'s  pontificate, 
Raphael  pushed  to  completion,  in  order  then  to  adorn  these  loggias 

60 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  61 

with  his  works,  or  to  have  them  adorned  with  the  works  of  his 
pupils. 

Some  days  after  the  burial  of  Luca  Savelli,  Egino,  in  his  aimless 
wanderings,  fell  upon  the  square  in  front  of  St.  Peter's.  He  looked 
with  apathetic  glance  upon  the  ant-like  movements  around  the  build- 
ing-site, in  whose  central  space  arose  the  four  pillars  now  support- 
ing the  dome.  Between  these  pillars,  in  the  background,  appeared 
the  interior  of  the  old  St.  Peter's  Church,  the  greater  part  of  its  walls 
covered  with  plank.  The  separate  parts  of  the  old  building  were 
borne  away  and  destroyed,  only  in  the  proportion  in  which  the  neces- 
sity to  win  room  for  the  new  made  this  unavoidable. 

Egino  stared  upon  the  spectacle,  and  seated  himself  then  upon  a 
block  of  marble  lying  there,  without  perceiving  that  he  was  observed 
by  any  one.  After  awhile  a  hand  was  laid  upon  his  shoulder,  and, 
lifting  his  eyes,  he  looked  into  the  face  of  a  young  monk,  who  wore 
an  undergarment  of  white  woolen  stuff  and  a  white  scapulary,  over 
which  was  a  black  cape  open  in  front,  with  wide  hanging  sleeves. 
He  had  removed  the  leathern  girdle  which  belonged  to  his  costume, 
and  thrown  it  over  his  shoulder ;  because,  on  this  warm  day,  it 
might  have  become  too  warm  for  him  in  his  monk's  garb. 

The  young  monk  appeared  quite  like  a  German,  with  his  firm  and 
compact  form,  his  thick  blonde  hair,  his  sturdy  features,  to  which  a 
broad,  bold  chin  gave  the  expression  of  courage  and  energy.  It  was 
not  possible  that  other  than  German  blood  flowed  through  this  pow- 
erful, thick-set  frame ;  only  what  lay  in  his  eyes,  looking  smilingly 
down  upon  Egino,  this  peculiarly  dazzling  light,  this  interchange  be- 
tween the  bright  beam  and  the  deep  glow,  which  soon  manifested  it- 
self under  the  excitement  produced  by  the  conversation  with  Egino, 
had  nothing  of  the  national  type  ;  it  was  a  peculiarity,  a  special 
characteristic  of  this  young  man  in  the  habit  of  an  Augustine 
monk, —  a  peculiarity  which  always  exercised  a  kind  of  charm  over 
him  who  looked  into  this  deeply  flaming  eye  of  the  soul. 

"See,  see,  Count  Egino ! "  said  then,  in  the  German  speech,  the 
young  monk,  smiling.  "  Here  sits  a  young  German  of  princely 
blood  and  lets  the  sun  burn  his  back,  in  order  to  observe  how  the 
Roman  church  builds  itself  anew." 

"Brother  Martin!"  cried  Egino,  "is  it  you?  Well,  yes,  I  am 
looking  upon  and  observing  all  the  haste,  and  see  how  the  ardent 
Master  Bramante  manages  to  keep  his  host  of  workmen  in  breath." 

"  And    what    do   you  think  of  this  sight,  you  German  prince  ? " 


62  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

asked  Brother  Martin,  while  he  familiarly  seated  himself  near  Egino, 
on  the  broad  stone. 

"What  do  I  think  of  it?"  continued  Egino.  "Now,  if  you  wish 
to  know,  I  think  it  is  an  old  rule  if  a  man  has  found  happiness  and 
prosperity  in  a  modest  and  narrow  house,  he  should  not  leave  it  to 
remove  into  a  more  showy,  larger  one ;  the  happiness  refuses,  indeed, 
to  remove  with  him  into  the  new  one.  Who  knows  whether  the 
future  of  the  church  in  the  new  house  will  be  so  happy  as  was  the 
past  in  the  old  !  " 

"You  are  something  of  a  heretic,  Count  Egino,"  answered  the 
monk,  shaking  his  head.  "Happiness  ?  What  is  happiness  ?  Does 
the  church  need  it  ?  " 

"  Were  I  a  heretic,  I  would,  on  the  contrary,  say  it  is  good  that  the 
church  begins  to  build  itself  anew ;  for,  as  it  was,  it  was  even  a  little 
worn  out  and  decaying." 

"And  let  that  even  be  heard  in  preference,"  responded  Brother 
Martin,  nodding.  "  With  everything  upon  the  earth  must  that  which 
is  decaying  be  renewed ;  and,  alas !  there  has  come  into  the  church, 
also,  as  occurs  in  earthly  human  phenomena,  much,  very  much  of 
decay  and  corruption,  and  new  work  is  necessary  to  restore  the 
splendor  of  the  temple  and  the  chaste  beauty  of  holiness." 

"  Do  you  dare  say  that,  little  monk  ? "  asked  Egino. 

"Wherefore  should  I  not  say  what  lies  open  to  the  eyes  of  all  the 
world  ?  I  see  here  many  dirty  hands  guarding  the  treasure  of  the 
church ;  the  treasure  is  not,  therefore,  less  if  I  say,  '  Wash  your 
hands.'  I  see  that  much  moss  has  formed  upon  the  columns  of  this 
tabernacle  ;  the  pillars  are  not,  therefore,  the  less  of  porphyry  and 
gold  if  I  say,  '  Scour  this  filthy  moss  and  this  rust  from  them.'  I 
see  there  lies  dirt  and  rubbish  on  the  ground  around  the  altar  here ; 
the  altar  is  not,  therefore,  less  a  holy  place  of  offering  if  I  say, 
'Sweep  this  trash  out.'  Am  I  right,  Count  Egino  of  Ortenburg,  or 
not  ?  " 

"  Such  a  man  as  you,  Brother  Martin,  is  always  right,"  gave  Egino 
for  reply.  "  You  are  even  a  peculiar  spirit,  and,  as  a  monk,  perform 
already  the  incredible,  if  you  only  perceive  and  admit  the  dirt  on  the 
hands,  the  rust  on  the  pillars,  the  rubbish  around  the  altar." 

"Ah,  ah!  You  speak  as  one  who  understands  nothing  about  these 
things,"  said  Brother  Martin,  interrupting  him  here.  "  Should  the 
monk,  because  he  is  a  monk,  be  like  the  humble  dog  which  licks  the 
feet  of  the  great,  the  high-puissant  honor-bearers  ?  I  know  the 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  63 

world  looks  upon  the  poor  mendicant  monk  in  this  way.  But  you 
are  mistaken ;  if  he  is  to  you  children  of  the  world,  even  once,  an 
object  of  ridicule,  you  would  be  nearer  right  to  call  the  poor,  begging 
friar  the  court-fool  of  the  church  —  for  the  court-fool,  you  know,  has 
the  right  to  speak  the  truth  out  plainly." 

"The  truth!  Pilate  asked  Christ,  'What  is  truth?'  Surely  he 
would  not  have  asked  a  mendicant  monk  this  question.  Perhaps,  at 
the  most,  he  might  have  asked  so  learned  an  Augustine  brother  as 
yourself,  Brother  Martin." 

"We,  also,  are  but  poor  hermit  brethren,  nothing  further,  and 
esteem  ourselves  no  wiser  than  those  in  patched,  brown  capes,  with 
long  or  short  cowls,  with  long  or  short  beards.  And  out  of  the  poor 
cloister  has  always  gone  forth  opposition  to  the  increasing  worldliness 
of  the  church  ;  yes,  bold,  protesting  sects,  as  the  Fraticelli  and  the 
Umiliati,  or  whole  congregations,  as  the  Minoriten,  Celestines,  against 
whom  the  Inquisition  has  taken  measures  sufficiently  sharp." 

"All  that,  truly,  you  know  better  than  I,"  interposed  Egino.  "I 
remain  only  by  my  statement  in  regard  to  what  you  asked  me, 
Brother  Martin, —  that  to  me  the  building  of  new  churches  is  not 
pleasing.  Why  be  always  building  greater  churches,  while  the  spirit 
that  rules  therein  always  proves  itself  to  be  such  that  it  frightens 
pious  men  to  go  in?" 

Brother  Martin  had  removed  his  leathern  girdle  from  his 
shoulder,  and  was  busying  himself  with  it,  clasping  and  unclasping 
the  buckle.  So  doing,  he  said:  — 

"You  talk  about  this  as  a  German  nobleman.  The  spirit  which 
reigns  therein  is  the  same  that  it  was  from  the  beginning,  although 
its  form  has  changed  from  time  to  time.  Every  spirit  is  a  current : 
upon  it  the  drift  of  everything  that  has  life  goes  to  a  continual  pro- 
duction of  an  ever-improved  form." 

"  Only  do  not  shape  and  unfold  too  much,  and  things  which  deter 
men  from  following  you,"  interposed  Egino.  "  I  have  learned  so 
much  in  Bologna,  in  the  college  of  the  learned  Greek,  Tryphon. 
The  great  heresies  have  always  arisen  through  a  protest  against 
your  new  forms.  On  account  of  the  new  form  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
divinity  of  the  Son,  the  Arians  arose  and  have  continued  to  this  day; 
on  account  of  the  unfolding  of  Papal  Infallibility,  arose  the  Walden- 
sians ;  on  account  of  the  dogma  which  set  aside  the  cup,  the 
Hussites.  All  these  heretics  have  always  declared  themselves  only 
against  the  innovations,  and  remain  by  the  original  Word  of  God,  or 


64  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

wish  to  return  to  it ;  and  I  fear  there  will  still  be  many  of  them, 
many,  remain  behind,  if  this  unfolding  of  new  forms,  of  new  exten- 
sion of  power,  of  new  heavenly  pardon  to  be  had  for  money,  is 
continued." 

"  What  do  you  understand  about  this,  you  or  your  cunning  Greek 
of  Bologna,  who  there  leads  the  German  youth  astray,"  answered 
Brother  Martin.  "  Shall  I  do  you  the  honor  to  hold  a  theological 
disputation  with  your  young  wisdom  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  "  responded  Egino,  smiling ;  "  I  grant  you  my  young 
wisdom  is  not  in  condition  for  that,  — never  less  so  than  now." 

"  So  come,  rather,  and  follow  me ;  I  can  help  you  to  a  sight  which 
it  is,  as  yet,  not  allowed  to  every  one  to  behold." 

"  And  that  is  ? " 

"  I  am  going  to  a  brother  of  my  order,  the  sacristan  of  the  Holy 
Father.  He  has  bidden  me  come  to  the  chambers  up  there  " —  the 
monk  pointed  to  the  right,  where  the  buildings  of  the  papal  residence 
towered  high  above  them  —  "which  a  young,  but  very  celebrated 
master  has  adorned  with  paintings,  such  that  no  man  has  ever  in 
any  land  beheld  finer." 

"  Oh !  I  have  heard  so  much  of  this  master,  and  of  his  pictures 
in  the  Vatican  Palace!  "  here  exclaimed  Egino.  "You  confer  upon 
me  a  great  favor,  Brother  Martin." 

"Then  come  on." 

Egino  arose,  and  the  two  fellow-countrymen  turned  thence  to  the 
right,  where  they  soon  found  themselves  upon  a  steeply  ascending 
street  which  led  between  the  substructions  of  the  palace  and  the 
lofty,  inclosing  walls,  and  up  which  they  slowly  walked,  with  people 
passing  one  another  in  the  most  various  garbs;  with  men  in  spiritual 
and  secular  costumes,  court  servants,  prelates,  Swiss  soldiers  in  the 
picturesque  uniform  of  their  land,  Roman  grandees,  in  stately  pomp, 
with  armed  retinue.  It  appeared  as  if  there  were  here  a  continual 
ebb  and  flow  in  the  royal  castle  of  the  earthly  vicegerent  of  heavenly 
power. 

Brother  Martin  seemed  to  have  passed  over  the  road  more  than 
once  before.  When  he,  with  Egino,  had  reached  the  Court  of  San 
Damaso,  he  turned  to  one  of  the  doors,  immediately  behind  which  a 
broad  stairway  led  upward.  Upon  the  first  landing  stood,  leaning 
motionless  upon  his  halberd,  a  soldier,  who,  in  an  indifferent  tone, 
asked  the  two  men  whither  they  wished  to  go ;  and  when  Brother 
Martin  gave  the  name  of  Fra  Anselmo,  the  brother  of  his  order,  in 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  65 

the  same  apathetic  manner,  with  a  mere  movement  of  the  head,  he 
bade  them  go  farther. 

Above,  Egino  and  Martin  came  to  a  curtain  of  green  cloth,  at 
which  a  guardian  porter  again  detained  them.  Upon  Martin's 
informing  him  whither  he  wished  to  go,  he  lifted  the  curtain,  and  the 
two  Germans  entered  a  room,  half  hall,  half  corridor,  with  vaulted 
ceilings  and  walls  frescoed  with  scenes  from  the  Old  Testament, 
with  a  few  high  windows,  admitting  only  insufficient  light.  Seats 
ran  around  the  walls,  with  cushions  of  embroidered  stuff  placed  upon 
them,  and  mats  of  fine  hurdle-work  covered  the  stone  slabs  of  the 
floor.  Upon  these  mats,  moving  leisurely  up  and  down,  stepped 
several  groups  of  men,  two  of  them  in  the  red  robes  of  a  cardinal ; 
others  sat  talking  together  upon  the  seats  at  the  side :  men  of 
the  most  diverse  ages,  of  the  most  diverse  nationalities  of 
the  world ;  the  legate  of  some  German  order  out  of  the  far  North, 
near  the  long-bearded  prior  of  a  Spanish  monastery ;  a  Hungarian 
bishop  near  a  Scotch  duke  in  the  costume  of  his  land  —  men  of 
proud,  commanding,  and  expressive  heads  and  crafty,  meagre  faces 
with  mobile  countenances  —  all  led  hither  by  a  common  aim.  They 
were  led  here  to  this  middle  point  of  the  spiritual  authority  of  the 
world,  to  see  fulfilled  some  desire  involving  a  vital  question  for  them- 
selves ;  this  might  be,  now,  the  territory  of  a  sovereign  or  a  bishop- 
ric, a  verdict  or  a  privilege,  a  release  from  some  law  or  absolution 
from  some  sin.  This  Vatican  was  then,  indeed,  the  heart  of  a  great 
.•system, of  arteries  and  veins,  in  which  pulsed  the  religious  life  of  the 
world  ;  through  the  arteries  flowed  out  spiritual  favors  to  the  world, 
through  the  veins  flowed  back  —  money. 

The  two  Germans  who  entered  this  room  let  their  glance  glide 
inquiringly  over  the  assembly,  when,  from  the  other  end  of  the  room, 
where  he  had  been  chatting  with  a  man  in  clerical  dress,  there  came 
to  meet  them  an  elderly  monk,  bowing  familiarly  to  Brother  Martin 
while  yet  at  a  distance.  He  wore  a  white  habit,  like  that  of  Brother 
Martin,  under  his  black  cape. 

"  That  is  Brother  Anselmo,  the  sacristan  and  father  confessor  of 
His  Holiness,"  said  Martin  to  his  companion. 

Then,  turning  to  the  one  approaching,  he  continued  in  the  Latin 
tongue  :  — 

"  You  see  two  curious  Germans  instead  of  one,  worthy  father. 
This  is  a  young  count  from  beyond  the  Alps,  who  has  come  hither 
in  order  to  carry  on  a  process  against  me  and  our  cloister.  We  are 


66  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

still  none  the  less  good  friends  on  that  account,  and  we  shall  soon 
settle  our  affairs  ourselves,  if  the  Rota  doesn't  do  it." 

"Right,  just  right,"  answered  Fra  Anselmo,  regarding  Egino  with 
a  friendly  smile ;  "better  that  two  friends  divide  a  disputed  fruit, 
than  that  the  contention  about  the  fruit  divide  the  friends.  You 
wish  to  see  what  our  young  Urbino  is  painting  in  the  Sala  della 
Segnatura  ? " 

"  Since  you  promised  me  to  let  me  see  it,  worthy  father,"  re- 
sponded Martin. 

"  I  know,  I  know  ;  and  I  was  expecting  you.  Follow  me.  Only 
do  not  let  the  master  know  of  our  presence  by  talking  too  loudly ; 
he  would  then,  indeed,  be  in  a  condition  to  send  us  all  three  away 
with  a  scolding." 

Fra  Anselmo  passed  to  the  other  end  of  the  room,  and  the  Ger- 
mans followed  him  ;  through  a  second  curtain  they  came  into  a  nar- 
row corridor,  and  then  into  a  vaulted  room  of  more  moderate 
extension. 

"Here  is  what  you  desired  to  see,"  whispered  Fra  Anselmo,  on 
entering. 

The  two  young  men  took  a  few  steps,  then  they  both  remained 
standing  as  if  frightened,  throwing  around  them  glances  of  surprise 
at  the  splendor  of  color  and  form  which  surrounded  them. 

The  entire  frescoing  of  the  room  was  just  finished,  the  scaffolding 
had  been  removed,  only  a  few  planks  and  ropes  yet  lay  on  the  floor ; 
some  workmen  were  busied  in  removing  these,  also,  while  several 
young  people  in  light,  bright-colored  frocks  over  their  garments, 
stood  together  in  a  group  at  the  window  examining  a  drawing,, 
which  lay  spread  out  before  them  on  the  window-sill. 

After  the  two  Germans  had  looked  around  awhile  in  silence  at 
that  which  met  their  eyes,  Egino  exclaimed  : — 

"  By  my  Creator  !  Brother  Martin,  if  one  should  threaten  to  cut 
out  my  tongue,  I  could  not  remain  dumb  here,  nor  could  I  whisper 
in  a  low  tone.  Something  as  if  overpowering  takes  possession  of  me, 
like  the  force  of  an  existence  which  I  had  never  anticipated, —  like  an 
intoxication ;  not  because  I  have  drunken  wine,  but  because  I  have 
drunken  something  like  the  air  of  Heaven.  Brother  Martin, 
Martin,  do  you  not,  then,  feel  as  I  do  ?  This  is  beautiful, —  beautiful 
enough  to  die  for,  a  world  of  beauty,  before  which  one  might 
throw  himself  upon  his  knees  in  ravished  devotion  !  " 

Brother  Martin  remained  silent.     He  regarded  in  silence,  with  a 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  67 

peculiarly  glowing  look,  the  picture  which  they  call  the  "  Disputa- 
tion." Then  he  raised  his  head  to  contemplate  the  ceiling 
pictures, —  the  forms  of  Theology,  Poesy,  Philosophy,  and  Justice; 
and  finally,  turning  around,  he  let  his  eye  rest  a  long  time  on  the 
wall  opposite  that  on  which  was  the  "Disputation," — on  the 
"Parnassus"  and  "The  School  of  Athens." 

"Now,  Brother  Martin,"  cried  Egino  again,  "you  cannot  look 
mute  and  silent  upon  all  this  ?  " 

Brother  Martin  passed  his  hand  over  his  brow  and  face,  as  if  to 
collect  himself. 

"  How  could  one  look  upon  it  otherwise  than  in  silence  ? "  said  he 
then,  half  aloud.  "It  yields  even  a  world  of  reflection." 

"  Of  reflection  ?  Aye  !  who  can  reflect  here  ?  When  great  pin- 
ions are  placed  upon  your  shoulders,  what  do  you  reflect  ?  Miser- 
able soul  to  reflect  then  ;  one  strikes  the  wings  together  and  soars  — 
up,  up,  into  the  morning-glow,  into  the  air  of  heaven,  and  into 
the  beam-world  of  the  sun." 

"So  you  feel,  Count  Egino,"  replied  the  German  monk,  as  if  in. 
confusion  and  perplexity.  "  Here,  however,  is  a  celestial  atmos- 
phere in  which  I  would  tremble  to  soar  and  lose  myself.  In  these 
pictures  is  much  of  God  ;  for  in  beauty  is  always  something  of  God, 
and  so  is  beauty  also  a  virtue " 

"But?" 

"But,"  continued  Brother  Martin,  "this  virtue  is  led  astray  by 
the  serpent,  and  the  Devil  stands  behind  her." 

"Oh !  now  I  could  laugh  if  I  did  not  feel  so  sacredly  in  earnest." 

"Do  not  laugh!  It  is  so;  the  race  of  man,  the  terrestrial  body, 
our  miserable  carnality  presented  in  this  unfettered  beauty,  is  indeed 
a  deification  of  the  creature,  as  if  it  were  born  without  sin  !  See 
these  forms !  Are  they  earthly  creatures,  born  for  pain  as  we  men 
are,  and  in  need  of  redemption  through  the  atoning  blood  of  Christ  ? 
of  pardon  in  order  to  live,  in  order  not  to  be  overcome  with  suffer- 
ing ?  Do  they  not  stand  there  in  proud  self-sufficiency,  and  as  if 
they  needed  not  justification,  because  they  are  justified  through 
themselves  ?  Does  not  this  new  art  teach  paganism  in  the  house  of 
the  Holy  Father  ?  " 

"Why  not  paganism,"  said  Egino,  "if  paganism  is  so  beautiful  — 
as  you  say,  so  virtuous  ?  " 

Brother  Martin  regarded  him  loftily ;  he  answered  not ;  he  looked 
again  upon  the  forms  of  the  pictures  and  became  absorbed  in  the  sight. 


68  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

In  the  meantime,  out  of  the  group  of  young  people  at  the  window, 
he  who  had  formed  its  central  figure  and  led  the  conversation  ex- 
plaining the  drawing,  turned  around.  He  was  a  man  of  a  frame  not 
large,  and  more  elegant  than  strong,  of  strikingly  beautiful  features, 
with  rich  brown  hair  flowing  down  upon  his  shoulders.  He  carried 
his  head  a  little  inclined  forward  on  the  long  neck ;  beautiful,  wide- 
open,  brown  eyes  sparkled  therein ;  the  skin  was  overspread  with  a 
fine,  olive-tinted  paleness  ;  he  had  a  thoroughly  spiritual  appearance, 
almost  imbuing  one  with  melancholy.  Coming  a  step  nearer,  he 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  German  monk ;  Fra  Anselmo  approached 
him  and  whispered  to  him  some  words  as  of  apology  that  he  had 
brought  the  strangers  hither.  The  painter  bowed,  and  then  said, 
smiling,  "  And  what  does  that  brother  of  your  order  say  to  his  fellow- 
countryman  ?  He  seems  not  to  be  especially  pleased  with  my  work  ?  " 

Thereupon  he  threw  back  his  long  hair  with  a  motion  of  the  head 
which,  for  a  man,  had  almost  too  much  of  grace  and  something  of  the 
effeminate ;  the  voice  with  which  he  spoke  had  about  it  something 
clear,  silver-toned,  which  peculiarly  penetrated  the  heart. 

The  German  monk  turned  from  the  pictures  and  advanced  a  step 
toward  the  painter,  as  if  struck  and  attracted  by  this  appearance. 

Egino  also  could  not  do  otherwise  than  withdraw  his  attention  from 
the  pictures,  in  order  to  direct  it  toward  the  two  men  standing  oppo- 
site each  other ;  toward  the  beautiful,  soul-lighted  countenance  of  the 
young  painter,  out  of  which  looked  forth  a  full,  joyous  nature,  by  the 
side  of  a  remarkable,  an  almost  awe-inspiring  earnestness, —  toward 
the  firmly  chiseled  head  of  the  monk,  which  had  about  it  nothing  at- 
tractive except  the  eyes,  filled  at  this  moment  with  an  entirely  char- 
acteristic fire.  It  was  as  if  out  of  the  four  eyes  thus  encountering 
each  other,  intercrossing  beams  were  thrown, —  invisible  spirit  fibers 
drawn  from  each  toward  the  other,  seeking  a  union  but  unable  to 
find  it.  It  was  a  mutual  searching  of  souls  and  a  daring  challenge. 

"What  a  head  you  have,  good  brother,"  then  said  the  painter, 
smiling  with  a  meditative  air ;  "  if  I  had  seen  it  sooner,  I  might  have 
used  it  there  among  the  men  of  the  disputing  church." 

He  pointed  to  the  right  at  the  picture  of  the  "Disputation." 

"Perhaps,  however,"  he  added,  "you  would  not  have  consented  to 
that ;  you  put  on  a  very  earnest,  and  as  if  horrified,  face  at  this 
picture." 

He  had  said  this  in  tolerably  fluent  Latin,  and  Brother  Martin 
replied,  in  the  same  tongue  :  — 


RAPHAEL   SANTI. 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  69 

"  Horrified,  but  only  at  the  beauty  of  your  representation,  which 
shows  upon  its  face  that  you  have  read  more  in  Plato's  Symposium 
than  in  the  Bible." 

The  painter  nodded,  smiling. 

"  I  have  read  Plato's  Symposium,  but  also  the  Bible  ;  it  has  not, 
as  you  say  yourself,  injured  my  pictures  ?  " 

"  Not  your  pictures,  but  perhaps  the  souls  which  become  absorbed 
in  these  pictures." 

"And  wherefore  ?" 

"  Because  they  are  like  an  intoxicating  magic  potion.  This  full- 
ness of  beauty  is  too  great  not  to  take  the  heart  captive,  and  lull  it 
into  a  dangerous  dream  of  human  grandeur,  greatness,  and  beauty. 
Grant  that  you  are  only  the  pictures  of  fully  developed  mankind,  yet 
you  also  preach  a  sermon  down  from  these  walls,  and  you  have 
enough  of  beauty,  of  happiness,  of  inner  harmony ;  you  beam  forth 
there  as  real  kings  of  the  world  ;  you  have  become  there  the  embodi- 
ment of  eternal  ideas,  which  your  Grecian  philosophy  sends  forth  out 
of  the  lap  of  the  divine  Being — you  need  nothing  more." 

"And  shall  I  not  represent  such  beings?"  said  the  young  painter. 
"Is  the  God  of  the  Bible  weaker,  more  powerless,  than  the  eternal 
Being  of  Plato  ?  And  if  this  Being  creates  conceptions  which, 
being  embodied,  represent  themselves  as  ideals  of  beautiful  forms, 
shall  I  then  make  accusation  against  them,  and  annihilate  them 
as  heathenish,  unchristian,  and  sinful  ?  Are  the  creatures  of  the 
Christian  God  weaker,  and  less  perfect  ?  Do  you  recognize  as  his 
children  only  the  deformed,  who  appear  like  the  long,  meager, 
and  wrinkled  saints  in  your  German,  and,  alas !  also  in  our  Italian 
cathedrals  ? " 

"The  god  of  Plato  is  not  our  God,"  responded  the  German  monk, 
warmly.  "The  god  of  Plato  is  the  god  of  the  heathen  world. 
What  the  Old  World  represented,  what  the  pagan  artists  depicted, 
that  is  a  world  of  happiness,  of  heroism,  of  victory,  of  physical 
strength,  of  self-sufficiency,  of  present  joy.  The  ancient  dispen- 
sation was  that  of  earthly  happiness ;  the  Christian  is  that  of 
pain.  In  former  ages  man  belonged  to  material  nature ;  in  the 
Christian  age,  to  the  spirit.  There  prevails  in  Christ  a  contest 
between  man  and  nature.  Sin  has  brought  this  contest  about.  The 
contest  continues  till  the  entire  separation  of  one  from  the  other, — 
till  death  ;  and  thus  our  whole  life  is  a  painful  struggle, —  a  struggle 
with  self  up  to  that  dark  door  into  the  beyond,  on  whose  threshold 


70  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

we  break  down,  and  through  which  a  rescuing  arm  is  extended 
to  snatch  us  within,  into  the  stronghold  of  eternal  peace.  There- 
fore, Master,  you  are  wrong  when  you  paint  men  in  whom  there  is 
no  strife  ;  who  cannot  die,  because  their  harmonious  being  stands 
there  in  a  glory  of  spirit  and  of  form ;  who  have  no  sin  ;  and  who 
need  not  struggle  until  death.  We  are  Christians,  and  know  that 
we  need  pardon  if  we  would  have  life.  I  have  contemplated  many 
an  art  treasure  of  antiquity  which,  here  in  this  ancient  city  of  the 
world,  has  been  rescued  from  destruction,  and  is  now  freely  exposed 
to  the  view  of  foreign  visitors.  From  these  I  have  found  that  the 
Egyptians  represented  best  the  beauty  of  the  animal ;  the  Greeks, 
best  the  beauty  of  man ;  the  Christian,  however,  should  best 
represent  the  beauty  of  the  soul :  that  should  be  their  art.  But  you, 
Master,  paint  gods  incarnate." 

While  the  monk  ^spoke  in  this  way  the  countenance  of  the  young 
painter  had  assumed  an  expression  which  strangely  transformed  it. 
It  was  as  if  the  breath  of  youthful  beauty  which  played  upon  it  had 
gently  withdrawn,  in  order  to  make  room  for  an  earnest,  thoughtful 
face  with  wrinkles  of  pain.  The  sockets  of  his  eyes  had  grown 
deeper ;  the  light  tinge  of  red  upon  his  cheeks  had  flown. 

We  possess  a  little  drawing  which  was  prepared  by  the  hand  of 
the  engraver  Mark  Antonio,  and  which  gives  to  us  a  portrait  of  an 
entirely  different  Raffaelle  Santi  from  that  which  stands  before  the 
eyes  of  the  world  according  to  the  well-known  pictures  of  him. 
This  picture  makes  a  deeply  seated  and  disturbing  impression ;  it 
shows  how  even  the  richest  and  most  happily  endowed  genius,  the 
most  fully  inspired  soul,  is  not  free  from  the  difficult  and  painful 
conditions  under  which  the  spirit  of  man  surrounds  itself  with  the 
most  artistic  vision  of  the  beautiful.  The  picture  lets  us  look  into  a 
desolate  room,  wherein  stands  an  easel  with  an  outstretched,  empty 
canvas;  upon  a  seat  is  the  painter,  all  sunken  together,  his  head 
bowed  under  the  burden  of  his  thoughts,  his  deep-set  eyes  wander- 
ing around  in  uncertain  search ;  it  appears  to  have  made  him  chilly, 
since  he  has  thrown  around  him  a  broad  mantle ;  his  form  appears 
emaciated  from  the  exertion  of  wasting  labor. 

Something  of  this  Raffaelle  of  Mark  Antonio  stood  now  before  the 
German  monk.  He  crossed  his  arms  upon  his  breast ;  he  looked 
upon  Brother  Martin  awhile  in  silence  ;  then,  as  if  in  absent-minded- 
ness, he  threw  off  the  restraint  of  the  Latin  speech,  and  answered 
in  Italian  :  — 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  71 

"If  you  should  say  that  in  your  cell  beyond  the  mountains, 
German  monk,  you  would  be  right.  Every  system  is  of  value  so  far 
as  it  has  power  over  the  souls ;  beyond  this  limit  it  becomes  folly, 
and  the  sport  of  children.  As  your  system  is  not  in  me  when  I  paint, 
I  cannot  paint  your  agonizing  men.  Look  there  upon  my  creations. 
If  there  is  no  sin  in  them,  you  see  them  free  from  an  old  curse, 
whose  stamp  you  imagine  burnt  upon  the  brow  of  all  living ;  now, 
why  do  you  not  say,  '  So  much  the  better  ? '  Believe  me,  if  man  is 
born  in  pain  and  subject  to  death,  he  is,  moreover,  born  to  make 
himself  free  from  pain.  Let  me  show  to  the  world  forms  in  which 
there  is  no  contest,  but  a  harmony,  between  the  mind  and  the  soul ; 
forms  which,  with  a  finer  soul  in  a  finer  body,  have  found  liberty, 
and  with  the. liberty  happiness,  present  joy;  forms  which  are  not 
the  servants  of  pain,  but  its  masters.  Perhaps,  you  call  it,  indeed, 
a  sermon  ;  perhaps  this  sermon  has  also  its  influence  for  good  upon 
man.  Do  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"I  understand,  Signore  Raffaelle,"  answered  Brother  Martin,  in  the 
same  tongue;  "but  let  me  continue  to  speak  in  Latin,  as  I  speak  it 
more  fluently  than  your  Italian.  I  would  let  you  paint  your  forms 
as  your  eye  beholds  them,  your  mind  creates  them,  as  your  marvel- 
ously  skillful  hand  knows  how  to  conjure  them  forth  in  inimitable 
perfection,  if  you  did  not  thus  preach  too  loudly,  too  pointedly,  too 
movingly.  You  not  only  place  humanity  there  as  it  would  be  repre- 
sented by  the  heathen,  you  also  construct  for  yourself  the  world  in 
a  manner  Christ  did  not  dare  to  see  it  built.  Upon  this  wall,  here, 
you  place  the  glorification  of  religion  ;  upon  the  opposite  wall,  where 
jour  sages  stand  assembled,  the  glorification  of  philosophy :  there, 
the  church  with  her  revelation  ;  here,  the  self-supporting  mind  of 
man  and  the  heroes  of  searching  thought !  You  give  to  them,  also, 
an  equal  right  in  your  world!  There,  over  our  heads,  in  striking 
beauty,  Poesy  and  Law  stand  near  Theology.  Are  they  the 
•equally  strong  ground-pillars  of  your  moral  world  ?  Art,  Law, 
Philosophy  —  are  they  the  same  to  you  as  Religion?  And  do  you 
so  present  them  in  the  house  of  the  Successor  of  the  Apostles  — 
there,  the  Fathers  of  the  church  ?  here,  Apollo  and  his  Muses  ? 
Parnassus  opposite  the  Eucharist  ?  The  mind  which  entertains  such 
:a  view  of  earthly  things  can  truly  also  create  earthly  men  as  gods, 
as  'masters  of  pain.'  'You  will  be  as  God,'  said  the  Serpent." 

The  painter  again  looked  upon  the  monk  earnestly,  meditatively, 
.as  if  lost  in  thought,  and  for  a  long  time  did  not  answer.  What  he 


72  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

heard  might  not,  in  the  first  place,  have  been  understood  by  him  ; 
but,  indeed,  scarcely  had  words  ever  pressed  themselves  so  firmly 
and  plainly  over  the  lips  of  those  who  came  to  admire  his  works,  or 
to  surround  him  as  friends  and  patrons,  and  strew  upon  his  life-path, 
as  roses,  the  homage  and  glorification  which  he  still  found  always 
and  everywhere  this  path  led  him.  And,  truly,  never  had  spectator 
of  his  works,  with  such  earnest  look,  recognized  and  spoken  out 
what  was  the  historical  import  of  his  art,  —  the  anomaly  of  the 
heathen,  human  principle  in  Christian  art,  and  the  beauty,  attained 
only  at  the  cost  of  the  most  arbitrary  union. 

"Listen  to  me,  monk,"  then  he  said,  proudly  raising  his  sunken 
head  :  "you  preach  as  you  must  —  that  is  your  calling;  but  do  not 
let  my  art  disturb  you,  and  I  shall  not  let  your  preaching  disturb  me.. 
I  place  not  only  'Law,'  and  'Poesy,'  and  'Worldly-wisdom'  on  an 
equality  with  your  '  Theology ' — no,  I  even  place  there  myself,  the 
living  man.  I  know  God  has  created  me  as  I  am,  and  with  power  to 
accomplish  what  I  do  ;  but  I  have  expended  a  good  and  hard  bit  of 
labor  and  sour  sweat  in  order,  by  the  help  of  the  beloved  God,  to  be- 
come what  I  am.  Now,  however,  if  I  have  any  force  in  me,  it  is  a. 
good  force,  to  which,  when  I  am  in  ardor  of  creating  something,  I 
dare  to  give  loose  rein,  full  of  confidence  that  it,  having  knowledge  of 
the  right,  will  wander  in  the  right  ways.  And  so  I  do.  Do  you  com- 
plain that  I  paint  forms  not  ecclesiastical  ?  I  paint  them  as  proper 
men  are ;  if  they  prove  not  to  be  ecclesiastic,  it  must  follow  that 
God  has  not  created  and  appointed  the  right  man  for  his  churchdom. 
If  you  wish  to  see  struggling,  fettered  bodies,  which  strain  their 
muscles  and  prop  their  limbs  under  sin  as  under  a  weight  of  stone,, 
just  go  into  the  chapel  beyond,  where  Michael  Angelo  is  painting. 
If  I  were  to  do  so  I  should  commit  a  crime  against  myself,  and  be- 
come a  hypocrite,  for  I  do  not  apprehend  and  see  things  in  that  way. 
The  painter's  revelation  is  his  eye.  If  you  should  command  God  to- 
color  his  heavens  no  longer  blue,  but  green,  he  would  obey  you  as. 
much  as  I  those  who  desire  of  me  to  paint  stiff,  bound  limbs  and 
lank  bodies  in  the  mantle  of  an  ascetic,  and  no  more  the  nude 
shoulders  of  a  pure  woman  like  that  Muse,  there.  Let  there  exist 
under  the  mantle  of  the  haggard  saint  the  entire  theology  of  Thomas 
Aquinas,  in  the  nude  shoulders  of  the  Muse  is  a  higher  theology,  a 
lesson  of  divine  wisdom  preached  by  beauty,  and  more  of  the  eternal, 
perhaps,  than  in  the  scholastic  'Summary.'  And  because  you  look 
so  clever  out  of  your  fiery  eyes,  German  Brother,  now  take  a  lesson 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  73 

from   me.     I  have  made  myself  free  —  and   so  have  found  beauty. 
You  go,  make  yourself  free,  in  order  to  find  truth !  " 

With  that,  Master  Raffaelle  Santi  bowed  to  Brother  Martin  a  cold, 
proud  leave-taking,  beckoned  to  the  other  young  men,  and  withdrew 
accompanied  by  them. 

The  German  monk  looked  after  him  with  dark  and  wrinkled  brow. 

"  You  are  confounded  and  silenced,  Brother  Martin  ? "  said  Count 
Egino,  after  a  pause,  during  which  he  had  been  observing  his  com- 
panion. 

"Confounded!  Yes;  that  I  am,"  cried  the  monk;  "and  I  think 
you  ought  to  be  also  !  There,  beyond  " — he  pointed  in  the  direction 
of  St.  Peter's  Church  —  "the  Pope  is  tearing  down  the- sacred  dome 
of  Christendom,  in  which  are  the  graves  of  the  Apostles,  and  every 
spot  hallowed  through  the  veneration  of  a  thousand  years,  in  order 
to  erect  a  new  work  in  the  pagan  style.  Here,  in  his  chambers,  the 
first  painter  of  the  world  paints  for  him  luminous  paganism  on  the 
walls.  Now  tell  me,  Count  Egino,  what  is  to  become  of  the  church, 
if  those  who  occupy  the  highest  positions  in  the  world,  and  if  the 
greatest  minds,  for  the  sake  of  art  and  beauty,  turn  their  backs  upon 
her?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Egino,  shrugging  his  shoulders.  "  It 
appears  to  me  that  if  the  highest  minds  will  no  longer  come  to  the 
church,  the  church  in  the  end  will  do  well  to  come  to  the  minds. 
You  know  the  adage  about  Mahomet  and  the  mountain  ;  and  as  you 
are  a  learned  man,  you  will  best  know  whether  I  do  right  to  answer 
you  with  it." 

Brother  Martin  made  no  response.  He  slowly  raised  his  eyes  to 
the  picture  of  the  "  Disputation."  Egino's  looks,  however,  hung 
glowing  and  ravished  upon  the  forms  of  the  other  walls. 

"The  beauty  !  "  at  length  exclaimed  the  latter.  "  Where  does  it  lie 
here  ?  I  believe  it  lies  in  the  spotless  purity  of  these  forms.  When 
this  Mester  von  Urbino  paints  nude  bodies,  they  stand  there  as  if 
beings  gone  forth  from  the  lap  of  Nature,  for  which  you  require  a  veil 
as  little  as  for  the  tree  past  which  your  road  leads.  When  you  inhale 
the  fragrance  of  a  flower,  do  you  think  of  its  sex  ?  Yes,  yes  —  in  his 
clear  purity  of  soul  lies  the  secret  of  this  painter ;  his  bodies  have 
their  beauty,  as  if  they  had  developed  so  beautifully  through  their 
own  inner  superiority.  Therefore  I  do  not  inveigh  against  his 
creations.  You  may  call  him  pagan,  if  you  will ;  in  his  chastity  lies 
his  Christianity ;  and  if  he  forces  the  pagan  form  to  become  the 


74  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

living,    breathing   expression  of  a  pure  and  ideal  soul,  you   should 
praise,  and  not  blame  him." 

"  Come,  come,"   said  Brother  Martin  ;    "  let  us  go ;  I  have  seen 
enough.     I  have  the  heart-ache  over  this  place." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

A    PICTURE    OF    THE    CHURCH. 

HEN  Egino  again  arrived  at  his  dwelling,  tired  and  almost 
out  of  breath,  he  threw  aside  his  dagger  and  hat,  and 
stretched  himself  upon  his  leathern  couch  ;  with  open 
eyes  he  stared  long  at  the  opposite  wall,  a  dark-blue, 
whitewashed  surface,  with  a  red  finishing-roll  and  green,  interlacing 
vines,  which  ran  around  as  a  border,  and  this  border  soon  became 
for  him  a  confused  medley  of  pictures. 

He  beheld  before  him  the  forms  of  Raphael  as  shifting  shadows, 
appearing  and  again  vanishing ;  upon  the  blue  background  they 
swayed  back  and  forth,  coming  and  going,  up  and  down,  as  if  in  a 
spell  of  enchantment  which  would  not  leave  him  again,  — the  Apollo 
with  his  viol,  the  Poesy,  the  beautiful  forms  of  the  Muses,  the  Poet 
and  the  Sage  in  their  commingled  glow  of  colors  ;  and  then  be- 
tween them,  before  them,  ruling  over  them  all,  and  still  as  if  belong- 
ing to  them,  that  other  form  which  nevermore  left  Egino  !  She  was 
as  a  being  out  of  this  world,  as  if  stepping  forth  out  of  it  into  life, 
a  creation  of  the  most  gifted  artist,  who,  in  the  intoxicating  inspira- 
tion of  beauty,  had  called  her  into  life  —  she  alone  of  all  to  breathe, 
to  live,  and  thus  press  back  and  cast  in  the  shadow,  all  this  lifeless 
beauty  in  contrast  with  her  own,  warm  and  living. 

And  still,  even  if  she  lived,  was  she  therefore  for  him,  for  Egino, 
more  than  a  picture  ?  Had  he  any  more  claim  upon  her  than  upon 
all  these  lifeless  forms  ?  What  was  it  to  him  whether  she  breathed 
or  not  ?  whether  or  not  her  lips  moved  in  speech  ?  whether  or  not 
her  lids  rose  and  fell  ?  A  word  addressed  to  him  could  never  come 
over  these  lips ;  in  order  to  throw  a  glance  upon  him,  these  lids 
could  never  be  lifted ;  she  was  nothing,  nothing  but  a  picture  to 
him,  —  a  shadowy  picture  of  memory,  forever.  And  on  this  account 
the  perfect  wretchedness  of  the  last  few  days  again  seized  upon  him, 
though  from  it  the  hour  just  past  had  a  little  distracted  him.  The 

75 


76  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

pictures  of  the  master,  which  he  had  just  now  taken  so  warmly  under 
his  protection,  lost  for  him  their  enchanting  colors  ;  they  swam  con- 
fusedly before  him  and  fled  ;  they  lost  their  power  over  his  soul,  into 
which  pain  again  returned  as  if  into  its  own  exclusive  place.  A  Ger- 
man poet  has  said  :  — 

,,3>af3  fte  ant  ©cfymerj,  ben  fie  ju  troften 
9itcf)t  nwjjte,  tntlb  tioriiberfittjrt, 
(Svfemt  id)  at8  ber  ^auber  flrofjten, 
SBotnit  unS  bie  Slntife  riil)rt." 

Was  it  not  also  this  which  Egino  now  felt,  —  that  this  art  was  not 
the  comforter  of  pain  ;  that  she  only  sought  mildly  to  lead  one  be- 
yond it  ;  and  if  she  failed  in  this  charm,  as  a  strange  world  thrust  the 
bleeding  human  heart  from  herself,  and  coolly  showed  it  the  way  out 
of  her  elevated,  self-sufficient  regions.  Was  it  the  intention  of 
Brother  Martin  finally  to  say  this,  and  to  upbraid  the  painter  with  it  ? 
Had  it  at  once  been  clear  and  open  to  Brother  Martin,  what  Egino 
now  for  the  first  time  believed  himself  to  feel,  when  the  forms  of 
the  artist  paled  before  him,  —  that  not 


,,burd)  be«  @cf)mergen«  ©unfl 
©et  \d\\en  SSHcfen  aufgegangen 
S)ie  tiefe  SSelt  ber  Sfjriftenfunft,  —  " 

of  an  art,  which  must  be  produced  by  a  different  life  principle,  in 
order  to  avail  more  than  the  antique  —  to  be  able  to  console,  to  heal, 
and  to  save. 

Suffice  it  to  say,  Egino  forgot  the  pictures,  and  gradually  all  his 
thoughts  drew  again  into  the  same  channel,  toward  the  same 
object. 

With  entirely  different  thoughts  was  Brother  Martin  busy  as  he 
wended  his  way  home  to  his  cloister. 

All  that  he  had  found  out  and  observed  in  this  Roman  world,  in 
which  he  had  now  tarried  some  weeks,  and  which  became  the  more 
shocking  to  him  the  more  he  became  acquainted  with  the  foreign 
tongue,  stood  in  most  direct  opposition  to  his  preconceived  notions. 
With  his  deeply  seated  religious  nature,  he  had  applied  to  everything 
the  measuring-rod  of  his  theology.  And  nothing  would  conform  to 
it  !  But  the  appearances  which  disturbed  him,  because  they  seemed 
to  withdraw  themselves  entirely  from  his  theological  measuring-staff, 
he  had  gradually  submitted  to  a  species  of  powerful  dialectics,  and 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  77 

thus  gotten  rid  of  them  till  they  no  more  disturbed  his  peace,  and 
till  the  optimism  of  his  faithful  soul  had  become  their  master. 

The  church,  as  he  had  seen,  had  a  thousand  drawbacks.  With  an 
open  cynicism  simony  prevailed  in  it.  Worldly  and  uncultivated 
men  clothed  themselves  in  priests'  attire  in  order  to  drive  bargains 
with  the  favors  a'nd  treasures  of  the  church.  And  men,  as  one 
when  a  scholar  at  home  took  upon  himself  the  vexations  which  the 
system  of  fagging  imposed,  in  order  thereafter  to  be  received  into  a 
higher  schools,  took  the  vexations  which  the  church  inflicted  upon 
them.  They  fasted ;  they  prayed  off  the  whole  chaplet ;  they  pur- 
chased indulgences,  dispensations,  masses  ;  they  bowed  before  the 
priests,  who  despised  them  for  their  conduct ;  they  tortured  their 
mother-wit  and  their  intellect,  in  order  to  believe  a  thousand  incred- 
ible things, — all  this,  that  they  might  then  be  received  into  heaven. 
They  laid  up  in  a  savings-box,  in  order  to  receive  a  great  capital  of 
heavenly  joy. 

That  was  all  shocking !  The  church  had  become  something  of 
which  the  miracle-working  Mother  of  God  in  Sant  Agostino  pre- 
sented a  striking  image.  How  she  sat  there  !  Surrounded  with  a 
dazzling  light ;  adorned  with  garments  of  silk  and  cloth-of-gold  ;  a 
lofty,  diamond-sprinkled  imperial  crown  upon  her  head ;  strings  of 
diamonds  and  pearls  of  inestimable  value  upon  her  neck,  her 
arms, —  at  her  feet  knelt,  in  the  dust,  hundreds  of  men  murmuring 
prayers ! 

Upon  the  lap  of  the  figure,  however,  there  rested  a  corpse.  The 
Christ,  whom  this  image  of  the  church  held  upon  her  knees,  was  a 
corpse.  The  Christ  of  the  gospel,  who  had  uttered  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount  and  the  words,  "  You  shall  pray  in  spirit  and  in  truth," 
—  he  was  dead ;  he  had  died  upon  the  knees  of  this  woman.  Also 
they  did  not  pray  to  him  ;  men  bestowed  their  veneration  upon  the 
woman  in  the  dress  of  gold-cloth  and  strings  of  pearls. 

So  sounded  forth  often  Brother  Martin's  secretly  wrathful 
thoughts,  when  he  looked  about  him  in  the  holy  city  of  Christen- 
dom. But  he  silenced  these  thoughts.  Did  there  not  lie  at  hand 
consolation  a  hundred-fold  ?  What  effect  had  all  this  upon  the 
inner  being  of  the  church  ?  They  were  only  temporal  appearances, 
which  must  fall  away,  like  the  hull  from  the  kernel  when  it  is  ripe. 
Christ  had  arisen  after  three  days,  and  could  arise  again  from  the 
lap  of  the  woman  with  the  imperial  crown.  The  Rock  Peter  had 
been  established  for  eternity.  The  infallibility  of  doctrine  must, 


78  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

by  degrees,  remove  the  sores,  the  excrescences,  the  diseased 
material ;  arid  the  Master  must  purify  his  house  —  it  was  only  a 
question  of  time. 

>  And  thus  had  also  the  General  of  his  order  spoken  to  him  when 
he,  sometimes,  in  the  anxiety  of  his  heart,  had  knocked  at  the 
former's  cell, —  the  largest,  finest,  and  most  comfortably  fitted  up 
of  the  cloister.  This  mild  and  free-thinking  man  had  then  received 
him  in  a  paternal  way.  Fra  Egidius  von  Viterbo  was  a  man  of  bril- 
liant attainments,  who,  in  his  youth,  had  distinguished  himself  as  a 
poet,  and  who,  among  the  honor-bearers  of  the  church,  was  promi- 
nent for  his  breadth  of  spiritual  view.  That  had  Brother  Martin 
joyously  found  out  even  in  the  first  weeks  after  he,  with  his  full, 
piously  ardent  heart  had  arrived  in  the  "  Eternal  City  "  ;  and  now,  out 
of  that  which  he  saw  and  experienced,  the  first  cold  showers  poured 
themselves  over  this  pious  flame.  He  had  then,  indeed,  half  indig- 
nant and  rebellious,  half  as  one  pleading  for  help,  fled  to  this  man, 
and  complained  to  him  how  the  readers  of  the  Mass  there  below  in 
the  church  of  the  order  sneered  at  him  because  he  took  it  so  earn- 
estly, and  did  it  so  slowly;  and  how  impatiently  they  had  called  out 
to  him,  "Go  on  !  go  on  !  " — yes,  how  he  had  observed  that  during  the 
Mass  they  had  uttered  blasphemous  things ;  that  they  had  amused 
themselves  with  filthy  jesting  —  how  he,  under  the  impression  of  all 
this,  in  a  puzzled  frame  of  mind  had  ascended  the  Holy  Stair,  and 
how,  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  the  disagreeable  gliding  from  step  to 
step,  a  disgust  at  all  works  of  sanctification  had  seized  him,  so  that 
he  defiantly  arose  and  walked  down.  Upon  hearing  this,  Egidius  von 
Viterbo  had  consoled  him  with  a  kind  of  mild  condescension  to  his 
childish  feelings,  to  his  honest  inexperience ;  then,  also,  had  scolded 
him,  as  well,  on  account  of  his  hypercritical  nature,  which  would  not 
let  him  take  the  world  as  he  found  it ;  and,  finally,  always  referred  to 
the  unchanging,  eternal  principle  of  the  church  standing  high  above 
earthly,  mutable  forms  and  human  frailties,  the  Paraclete, —  the 
Spirit  remaining  with  and  in  it. 

With  this  .Brother  Martin  had  consoled  himself.  But  to-day 
something  penetrated  his  being  which  would  no  more  be  silenced 
through  such  a  consolation. 

For  the  immoral  priesthood,  for  the  thoughtless  service  of  God, 
for  the  filth,  for  the  wickedness,  for  the  corruption,  there  was  a  con- 
solation ;  but  where  was  -the  consolation  for  that  which  the  beautiful, 
rising  unrestrained  in  opposition  to  his  holiness,  had  hurled  into  his 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  79 

soul  ?  As  these  thoughts  rushed  together  over  his  head,  a  deep 
anxiety  seized  upon  him.  What  avail  to  him  then  was  his  trust  in 
the  eternity  of  the  Rock  of  Peter  ?  Did  it  assure  to  him  the 
eternity  of  the  mastery  of  this  Rock  over  the  lives  of  men  ?  Did 
there  not  erect  itself  a  new  power  threateningly  before  his  eyes  ? 
Did  there  not  lie  in  this  world  of  culture  a  monstrous  insurrection, 
nourishing  its  growth  at  the  breasts  of  a  classic  past,  and  no  longer 
allowing  minds  to  be  guided,  or  bodies  to  be  mastered,  by  the  church  ? 
Did  not  science  already  turn  itself  away  from  her  ?  Did  not  art, 
especially  in  that  which  it  created,  throw  to  her  the  gauntlet  ?  Had 
these  Erasmuses,  these  Reuchlins,  these  Agricolas,  and  Heginses 
so  willed  to  lead  men  to  a  culture  which  then  would  also  despise  the 
voice  of  the  church,  when  she,  sounding  forth,  called  them  back 
under  her  wings  ?  Had  not  also  the  people  of  the  Jews  been  only  a 
small  heap,  a  narrow  island  of  humanity  ?  Could  not  the  church  of 
the  future,  with  her  Rock  Peter,  become  such  an  insignificant  rock- 
island,  on  which  the  waves  of  life  and  of  history  might  overflow 
without  noting  it  ? 

Like  an  ice-cold  bath  these  thoughts  showered  around  the 
German  monk.  With  grievous  force  there  pressed  upon  his  spirit 
the  anxious  fear  that  there  could  be  a  "too  late  "  for  the  reformation 
of  the  church,  which  the  previous  century  had  demanded ;  that 
there  could  lie  in  the  infidelity  of  the  cultured  men  of  his  time 
whom  the  church  had  offended,  not  merely  a  wandering  from  the 
right  way,  from  the  truth,  but  also  an  evolution,  a  stepping  forward 
of  humanity  upon  another  way,  in  order  to  seek  the  truth. 

No,  no  ;  it  must  have  been  a  fearful  apostasy  of  the  world  from 
Christ !  And  through  Christ  alone  could  it  become  rectified,  could 
it  receive  pardon  here  and  become  saved  hereafter.  But,  indeed,  it 
was  time  that  from  the  lap  of  the  diamond-bedizened  woman  in  the 
dress  of  gold-cloth,  the  corpse,  newly  alive,  should  arise,  and,  as 
master  of  the  world,  call  man  again  to  himself.  It  was  time.  Then, 
then,  too,  must  the  world  obey.  Brother  Martin  had  been  reared 
in  scholasticism  ;  he  was  a  theologian,  he  was  a  monk.  He  was 
even  in  this  moment  hierarch  enough  to  think  of  the  penal  power  of 
the  church,  of  compulsion  and  violence  against  the  insurrection ! 

Thus  had  the  pictures  of  Raphael  aroused  him,  alarmed  him.  He 
had  at  home  seen  many  pictures ;  beautiful  delineations  by  Lucas 
Sunder  from  Cronach,  who  painted  such  soulful  faces  of  the  saints ; 
also  some  by  Albert  Diirer  and  Lucas  von  Leyden.  This  had  all 


So  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

been  perfectly  pious  and  lovely,  and  had  spoken  to  his  soul ;  when  he 
looked  upon  their  work,  it  had  refreshed  his  soul  as  a  beautiful 
chime  of  bells. 

What  was  all  this,  however,  in  comparison  with  this  Raphael  ? 
Their  work  had  submitted  itself  to  faithful  ecclesiastical  representa- 
tions, as  music  to  the  words  of  a  song.  Here,  however,  was  the  free 
culture  of  his  age,  —  the  self-sustaining  human  mind  stepping  before 
him  in  its  most  beautiful,  most  refined,  most  triumphant  form, — 
humanistic  culture,  the  tenor  of  the  century,  in  its  pride,  in  its 
triumph. 

Must  not  something  lie  therein  to  disturb  the  c'ompass  of  the 
German  monk,  to  make  him  low-spirited,  and  then  to  lay  upon 
the  brow  of  this  powerful  nature  an  expression  as  of  challenge, 
as  if  an  impulse  to  contest  and  action  flashed  up  in  him  ? 

And  still  he  was  very  unhappy.  Why  was  there  at  hand  no  friend 
of  kindred  depth  of  nature,  to  whom  he  might  unburden  himself  ? 
He  felt  an  impulse  to  speak  with  a  friend.  To  Fra  Egidius  he 
could  not  betake  himself ;  he  was  absent  on  a  journey.  He  would 
speak  to  the  brethren  of  his  order  of  the  condition  of  the  church  and 
such  things.  They  could  not  be  blind  to  that  which  filled  his 
thoughts.  So  he  came  home.  The  brethren  were  in  the  garden 
of  the  cloister.  When  he  entered  the  garden  he  saw  his  hour 
had  been  badly  chosen.  He  saw  them  in  their  white  habits  in  a 
bright  heap,  moving  about  in  a  lively  manner,  calling,  laughing, 
throwing  stones.  Brother  Martin  drew  nearer,  and  perceived  what 
they  were  doing. 

It  aroused  him  ;  it  made  his  heart  bleed.  They  were  having  their 
sport  with  a  poor  hare,  which,  in  some  manner,  had  come  into  the 
garden.  Perhaps  a  peasant  had  caught  him  alive,  and  brought  him 
to  the  brother  cook  for  the  cloister  kitchen.  By  a  long  string  fastened 
to  his  hind  leg  they  had  bound  him  to  the  stem  of  an  orange  tree. 
Thus  they  threw  at  him  with  stones,  and  exercised  themselves  in 
striking  him.  Sneers  and  cries  of  ridicule  became  the  part  of  those 
who  missed  him  ;  loud  laughter  and  merriment  broke  out  when  the 
poor  animal,  which  dragged  behind  him  the  other  unbound  hind  leg, 
broken  and  bleeding,  became  struck  in  spite  of  the  leaps  he  made  in 
his  agony  of  fright.  The  entire  heartlessness  of  the  Roman  vented 
itself  upon  the  helpless  animal  devoted  by  the  church. 

With  a  few  hasty  strides  Brother  Martin  stood  in  their  midst. 
With  these  people 'could  he  indeed  not  speak  of  that  which  stirred 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  81 

him  so  deeply.  He  said  nothing  except  this  :  "  He  who  loves  the 
Lord  loves  also  his  creatures  ; "  but  he  said  this  with  pale,  trembling 
lips, —  with  such  a  tone  that  they  quietly  allowed  him,  in  passing  out, 
to  break  with  strong  hand  the  thread,  to  hide  the  poor  animal  in  his 
black  cape,  and  to  carry  it  to  his  cell,  in  order  to  protect  it,  and  to 
see  whether  he  could  heal  and  save  it. 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE    SECRET    OF    THE    HANDICRAFT. 

|T  was  upon  the  riext  day  in  the  afternoon.  Egino  had  lain 
down  for  a  siesta,  but  had  sought  slumber  in  vain.  He 
had  lain  so  a  long  while,  and  now  shut  his  eyes,  and  sigh- 
ing and  weary  laid  his  head  back  upon  the  cushion  of  his 
couch.  The  door  was  softly  opened  ;  it  must  be  his  servant,  and 
without  opening  his  eyes,  he  said  in  a  low  tone  :  — 

"  Bring  me  some  water,  Gotz  ;  I  wish  a  drink." 

He  heard  the  steps  of  some  one  passing  out  over  the  matting  of 
his  floor. 

After  awhile  they  returned,  and  a  gentle  voice  said  :  — 

"Here  is  water,  sir." 

He  opened  his  eyes,  and  saw,  standing  before  him,  Irmgard  —  in 
her  disguise  of  a  boy. 

"Irmgard  !  "  cried  he  in  surprise  ;  "is  it  you  ?  " 

"It  is  I,  sir.     You  desired  to  drink  ;  here  is  a  cup  of  fresh  water." 

She  reached  him  the  cup,  which  she  bore  in  her  right  hand,  and  at 
the  same  time  fastened  her  eye  sharply  upon  his  features. 

"I  thank  you,  maiden;  I  thought  it  was  my  servant  to  whom  I 
gave  the  order.  Why  do  you  look  at  me  so  inquiringly  ?  And  why 
do  you  still  always  stick  yourself  in  the  clothing  of  a  boy  ? " 

"That,  sir,  you  would  have  found  out,  if  you  once  again  should 
have  had  the  goodness  to  inquire  after  your  poor  fellow-country- 
men," she  answered,  with  a  tone  of  quiet  reproof. 

"Yes,  yes  ;  I  had  really  forgotten  you.  Forgive  me,"  said  Egino, 
with  a  sigh.  "  Seat  yourself  beside  me,  there,  and  talk  to  me." 

"As  to  your  second  question,  sir:  I  looked  at  you  so  sharply  be- 
cause I  believed  to  read  in  your  features  that  it  does  not  go  much 
better  with  you  here  in  this  strange  land  than  with  us  poor  people. 
You  are  sick,  you  are  so  pale " 

"  Am  I  ?  Well,  yes ;  I  am  a  little  sick.  You  are  right.  I  have 

82 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  83 

brought  away  with  me  a  little  contagion  from  a  corpse,  it  seems. 
But  speak  of  yourself.  Why  do  you  say  it  doesn't  go  well  with  you  ? 
What  has  happened  ?  " 

"  Nothing  more  than  that  they  laugh  -at  poor  Uncle  Kraps,  where- 
ever  he  lets  himself  be  seen  and  wherever  he  opens  his  mouth. 
And  what  is  worse,  they  laugh  at  him,  also,  even  then  the  most, 
when  he  comes  with  his  request  to  become  something  great  and  dis- 
tinguished here.  They  likewise  laugh  at  me  with  my  zeal  to  speak 
for  him,  when  I  speak  in  the  language  of  men  here,  and  therein 
make  a  hundred  mistakes.  We  have,  as  you  know,  through  Donna 
Ottavia's  kindness,  found  a  good  lodging  with  an  honest  woman, 
who  gives  us  food  and  shelter ;  but  a  friendly  hearing  from  the  men 
to  whom  they  advised  us  to  go  we  have  not." 

"  And  do  you  go  always  in  this  costume  with  your  uncle  ? " 

"Can  I  do  otherwise?"  answered  Irmgard,  blushing.  "The 
men, —  the  young  men,  and  also  the  older  ones,  and  those  in  priestly 
garb  not  the  least,  are  so  shameless  !  If  I  as  a  maiden  go  alone 
upon  the  streets,  with  my  foreign  appearance  and  blonde  hair, " 

"  Poor  child  !  "  said  Egino,  sighing,  and  rising  to  walk  slowly  up 
and  down  his  chamber.  "  I  fear  all  we  innocent  German  bloods 
have  come  not  for  our  happiness  into  this  Roman  world  —  neither 
you  nor  I,  nor,  perhaps,  even  the  wonderful  monk,  who  disturbs 
himself  over  the  pictures  of  Master  Raphael." 

"  Of  what  monk  do  you  speak  ?  Of  the  same  of  whom  you  said 
he  could  help  us  ?" 

"Of  the  same,  —  of  Brother  Martin,  from  Wittenberg." 

"On  his  account  I  have  just  come  to  you,  sir.  I  thought  that  if  I 
complained  to  you  of  our  need,  you  would  show  me  the  kindness  to 
take  me  to  him,  that  I  may  beg  him  to  speak  for  us  with  his  brother 
of  the  order  in  the  papal  palace." 

Egino  shook  his  head. 

"  To-day  it  would  do  no  good,  Irmgard.  Brother  Martin  is 
troubled ;  something  has,  as  it  were,  revolutionized  his  whole  soul." 

"And  what  has  happened  to  him,  to  Brother  Martin?  " 

"  What  has  happened  to  him  !  Can  I  make  it  plain  to  you  ?  They 
say  whoever  unveils  the  Truth  and  looks  upon  its  countenance  must 
die.  The  monk  has  looked  upon  the  countenance  of  Beauty,  and 
has  at  least  become  sick  from  it." 

"  That  has  more  frequently  happened,  not  only  to  poor  monks,  at 
the  sight  of  beauty,"  answered  Irmgard,  with  a  fleeting  smile. 


84  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"Yes,  yes  ;  still,  I  didn't  mean  it  that  way.  The  monk  has  looked 
upon  a  different  beauty,  and  thereby  has  made  the  discovery  that  a 
movement,  growth,  and  development  has  come  into  the  world  which 
is  growing  out  over  his  church  roof.  Imagine  that  the  mind  of  man 
is  a  beautiful  palm,  which  some  one  has  nurtured  in  a  glass  house  ; 
and  in  order  that  the  glass  house  by  which  it  has  been  cared  for  and 
protected  may  not  burst,  he  has  cut,  capped,  and  deformed  it.  Now, 
however,  this  tree  so  pruned  will  bear  no  more  fruit ;  the  young 
shoots  and  sap  are  too  powerful ;  the  strong  boughs  press  against 
the  roof  and  glass  as  if  they  would  burst  through  it " 

"Then  must  he  make  the  house  wider  and  more  airy,"  said 
Irmgard. 

"Truly  so ;  but  can  the  poor  monk  order  that,  or  bring  it  about  ?" 

"  And  he  is  troubled  about  that  ?  " 

"About  that  —  and,  indeed,  a  little,  also,  that  the  wicked  palm 
which  threatens  to  break  his  house  into  atoms  is  so  wonderfully 
beautiful " 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  answered  Irmgard.  "  But  what  is  it, 
then,  that  causes  you  to  say  your  coming  hither  is  not  for  your 
happiness  ? " 

"With  me  it  is  another  thing  —  and  still,  in  the  end,  the  same. 
As  they  have  restrained  the  living  palm  tree  under  the  dead  glass 
house,  so  have  they  also  here  fettered  the  living  to  the  dead,  and 
made  the  dead  master  of  the  living.  That  is  their  wisdom  here  in 
Rome, —  to  make  the  grave  master  over  the  living,  the  letter  over  the 
spirit,  and  the  dead  over  that  which  breathes " 

"You  speak  to  me  in  nothing  but  riddles,  sir,"  said  Irmgard,  dis- 
couraged, supporting  her  head  upon  her  hand.  "  In  this  lies  poor 
consolation  for  me  ;  and  for  consolation  I  came  to  you." 

"  If  I  did  not  speak  in  riddles,  could  it  be  a  comfort  to  you  ?  The 
affair  is,  for  once,  inconsolable,  believe  me." 

She  opened  her  eyes  and  observed  him  again. 

"  You  appear  as  if  you  had  not  slept  for  nights,  and  as  if  you  had 
had  no  rest  or  quiet  for  days.  That  must  indeed  indicate  something 
inconsolable  for  you.  It  would  be  a  comfort  to  me  if  you  would  tell 
me  what  oppresses  you ;  for  it  would  show  me  that  you  have  confi- 
dence in  me." 

"And  do  you  wish  my  confidence,  Irmgard?" 

"I  mean  you  owe  it  to  me." 

"  And  why  do  I  owe  it  ? " 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  85 

She  regarded  him  with  a  peculiar  glance,  in  which  lay  something 
questioning,  almost  wondering. 

"  Well,  yes,  "she  said  then,  after  awhile  ;  "it  seems  so  to  me,  truly. 
But  you  are  right  that  you  find  such  a  speech  presumptuous  in  mef, 
in  a  poor  maid  from  the  common  people.  I  know  not  what  is  in  me 
that  makes  me  speak  so  openly !  You  see,  at  least,  that  I  trust  you, 
when  I  speak  so  openly  what  I  think  —  even  the  foolish  things." 

"I  believe  that  you  are  an  honorable,  faithful  soul,  Irmgard, 
and  therefore  do  not  call  yourself  a  poor  maid  from  the  common 
people.  For  what  purpose  is  such  false  humility  ?  You  are  rich,  be- 
cause you  have  a  pure  and  warm  heart.  For  that  reason  also,  I 
will  gratify  you  by  ceasing  to  speak  in  riddles.  Listen  to  me.  One 
evening  —  it  was  about  ten  or  twelve  days  since  —  a  friend  of  mine 
took  me  with  him  into  the  palace  of  a  great  nobleman  here  named 
Savelli,  up  on  the  Aventine.  You  have  seen  the  castle  up  there 
near  the  great  Dominican  monastry  of  Santa  Sabina." 

"I  have  been  in  Santa  Sabina  —  also  there?" 

"  There  I  was  to  serve  my  friend  as  a  kind  of  witness,  and  to  look 
upon  a  marriage  ceremony.  I  witnessed  the  ceremony.  The  bride 
was  a  ravishingly  beautiful  woman,  and  the  bridegroom  was  dead !  " 

"  Dead  !    the  bridegroom  ?  " 

"So  I  said." 

"So  the  ceremony  amounted  to  nothing  ? " 

"No,  no  !     They  plighted  the  living  to  the  dead." 

"What  you  say  is  incredible  !  " 

"And  still  it  is  so;  and  in  Rome  not  so  incredible,  after  all.  They 
also  wed  the  living  spirit  of  man  with  a  dead  institution  ;  there  the 
bridegroom  is  living  and  the  bride  dead.  You  gaze  upon  me, 
Irmgard  ;  do  you  believe  that  I  have  become  mad  ?  " 

Egino  laughed  bitterly. 

"I  must  almost  believe  it,  sir." 

"  Perhaps  you  would  not  be  far  wrong.  I  have  become  mad  ;  my 
soul  has  been  snatched  from  me  since  that  moment ;  my  mind  is  no 
longer  my  own ;  my  entire  thought  and  aim  are  directed  to  a  single 
one  —  only  one  in  all  this  world.  I  wish  to  free  this  living  being 
from  her  dead.  O  my  God !  let  me  not  be  overwhelmed  in  the  mad- 
ness which  flashes  through  my  brain  when  I  think  that  I  must,  must 
and  yet  cannot !  Let  me  not  be  crushed  under  this  iron  weight  which 
the  horror,  the  powerlessness  lays  upon  me ! " 

Egino  uttered  this  with  such  a  tone  of  despair,  that  Irmgard,  hor- 


86  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

rifled,  raised  her  head.  Silently  she  followed  with  her  glance  his 
form  moving  slowly  back  and  forth. 

"You  are  right,"  said  Irmgard,  after  a  long  pause,  "that  we  have 
•come  here  to  become  inwardly  distressed.  But  perhaps,"  she  added 
after  awhile  with  a  sigh,  "  must  the  soul  of  man  through  tribulation 
attain  to  its  rest.  Let  Brother  Martin  see  how  he  will  manage  his 
palm  tree,  which  will  truly  give  him  enough  to  do ;  for  us,  even  it 
does  not  appear  impossible  to  get  rid  of  our  trouble.  You  lead  away 
your  beautiful  bride,  since  you  are  a  living  man ;  I  will  entice,  the 
best  I  can,  my  unhappy  Uncle  from  the  folly  which  led  him  here, 
and  so  we  will  withdraw  homeward  over  the  mountains,  somewhat, 
yes,  very  much  wiser." 

"You  speak  as  you  understand  it." 

"  Show  me  that  I  do  not  understand  it." 

"  If  the  Savelli  have  done  anything  so  criminal,  so  monstrous,  as 
they  have  done  when  they  wedded  that  woman  to  a  dead  man,  they 
must  have  had  urgent  grounds  for  acting  so.  There  must  have  been 
for  them  much  depending  upon  having  this  woman  bear  the  name  of 
Savelli, —  very  much.  They,  at  least,  wish  her  to  carry  what  she 
possesses  into  the  house.  They  would  know  how  to  make  it  quite 
certainly  impossible  for  her  to  bear  any  other  name." 

Irmgard  nodded  her  head. 

"  But  if  some  one  could  be  found  to  rescue  her  out  of  the  power 
of  the  Savelli,"  said  she,  thoughtfully, —  "some  man  courageous 
enough " 

"Courageous  enough,"  said  Egino,  cutting  short  her  speech;  "of 
what  use  is  courage  here  ?  I  know  that  I  am  perfectly  powerless 
against  them." 

"Don't  you  know  anyone  who  could  lead  you  as  a  harmless 
foreigner  into  their  house,  into  the  circle  of  the  family  ? " 

"  Then  must  I  play  the  hypocrite  before  them !  And  dare  I 
think  of  that  since  Signer  Callisto  has  introduced  me  into  the 
palace  as  a  young  lawyer  accompanying  him  ? " 

"And  could  you  not  appear  again  as  a  young  lawyer? " 

"Impossible  —  already  impossible;  because,  if  I  could  do  it,  I 
would  not  go  into  the  presence  of  Corradina  in  a  lying  mask  —  noth- 
ing would  move  me  to  it." 

"  Then  you  have  poor  prospects  :  with  open  force  you  will  not  be 
able  to  accomplish  it." 

"Certainly  not." 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  87 

Irmgard  rested  her  brow  upon  her  hands.  She  bit  her  lips  fast 
together ;  the  mute  play  of  her  countenance  showed  an  inner  strug- 
gle,—  some  kind  of  difficult  turning  over  in  the  mind.  Then 
slowly  lifting  her  face  she  said,  with  a  forced  jocularity :  — 

"For  the  poor  Henry,  a  maid  was  found  who  gave  to  him  her 
blood  to  save  him  ;  for  you,  Count  Egino,  it  shall  not  be  said  here- 
after that  no  maid  was  found  who  would  give  to  you  her  innermost 
thoughts  in  order  to  save  you  ;  for  it  seems  to  me  you  need  saving 
more  than  your  —  Corradina." 

"And  what  are  your  innermost  thoughts,  Maid  Irmgard,  which 
you  will  give  to  me  ? " 

"  In  the  first  place,  if  you  will  not  think  evil  that  I  consider  you  very 
helpless  and  dispirited  ;  and  that  you  must  also  come  to  one's  aid 
with  good  strokes  ;  and  that  your  passion  for  this  woman  must  be 
very  cool  if  a  little  lie,  a  little  bit  of  pretence,  necessary  to  attain 
the  goal,  is  esteemed  an  insurmountable  obstacle  between  it  and  its 
object." 

"A  lie?" 

"  Well,  yes.  Is  not  this  Corradina  of  sufficient  value  to  you,  that 
for  her  sake  you  may  so  far  humiliate  your  pride  as  to  lie  ?  It  is  as 
often  a  necessity  as  anything  else  !  Could  you  not  do  it  at  all  ? " 

"  Now,  by  God  !  for  Corradina's  sake  I  could  try  it.  Whether  it 
would  be  a  success,  I  know  not." 

"  Well,  try  it ;  for  without  deception  you  will  not  create  for  your- 
self an  approach  to  her." 

"  And  with  deception  would  it  succeed  ?  And  you,  Irmgard,  if 
you  know  how  to  bring  it  about,  how  ? " 

"I  know  how  to  help  —  yes,"  she  said,  "if  you  promise  to  thank 
me  for  it,  and  not  to  despise  us  on  account  of  that  which  I  must 
confess  to  you  beforehand." 

"  Despise  —  I  despise  you  ?     And  how  should  I  then " 

"Listen  to  me.  My  Uncle  Kraps,  you  know,  is  a  bell-founder  by 
trade." 

"  I  know,  I  know." 

"  And  you  know  also  that,  when  in  a  city  at  home  the  metal  for 
pouring  a  bell  is  in  the  smelting  oven,  the  old  crones  and  the  pious 
people  come  and  bring  all  kinds  of  silverware,  in  order  that  it,  mixed 
with  the  brass,  may  give  a  better  sound  ;  they  believe  this  is  a  gift 
especially  pleasing  to  God." 

"I  know  that,  too." 


88  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  But  not  that  it  is  a  superstition !  The  silver  does  not  conduce 
to  purity  of  tone ;  it  only  destroys  it.  Seventy-seven  parts  copper, 
twenty-one  parts  tin,  and  two  parts  bismuth  — that  gives  the  right 
ring.  But  whatever  you  will,  the  people  will  not  allow  themselves- 
to  believe  anything  but  that  it  will  not  go  without  their  silver,  and 
that  without  such  offering  the  bells  would  never  do  the  right  service, 
nor  could  ring  away  the  thunder-storms  and  everything  else  they 
should  do.  And  so,  sir,  it  is  one  of  the  secrets  of  the  handicraft. 
Every  handicraft,  you  know,  has  its  secrets  and  hereditary  tricks,, 
which  other  people  not  belonging  to  it  have  no  need  to  know.  One 
of  the  secrets  of  the  bell-founder's  trade  is  not  to  waste  the  silver 
brought  to  them  by  spoiling  with  it  the  tone  of  their  bell.  They 
take  the  silver  and  cast  it  through  the  chimney  of  their  furnace,  ap- 
parently into  the  mass  of  metal,  before  the  eyes  of  the  people  ;  but, 
in  truth,  in  throwing  it  they  give  it  such  a  turn  that  it  falls  obliquely,, 
sidewise,  into  the  hole  for  the  ashes  under  the  fire." 

"  I  understand,"  exclaimed  Egino ;  "  also  on  this  account  is  Uncle 
Kraps  so  rich  ?  " 

Irmgard,  with  rather  a  shy  glance,  observed  the  expression  of  his 
features. 

"You  must  not,  therefore,  think  evil  of  him  —  of  us,  sir;  it  is 
just " 

"A  secret  of  the  craft!  "  broke  in  Egino,  smiling.  "I  find  that 
Uncle  Kraps  has  acted  very  wisely  in  not  explaining  anything  openly 
to  those  old  wives  of  Ulm  which  would  have  disturbed  them  with 
great  anxiety  at  every  thunde'r-storm  ;  so  now  go  on." 

"So,"  said  Irmgard,  "we  have  gotten  all  kinds  of  silver  things,, 
among  them  some  that  seemed  to  Uncle  Kraps  too  good  for  melting. 
He  is  like  a  child,  you  know ;  and  when  he  anywhere  received  a  piece 
that  pleased  him,  it  was  like  a  plaything  to  him,  which  he  could  not 
make  up  his  mind  to  give  out  of  his  hands." 

Egino  nodded  his  head,  but,  at  the  same  time,  looked  at  Irmgard 
most  inquiringly,  and  in  suspense  as  to  whither  all  this  might  tend. 

"  You  are  wondering  what  I  intend  to  do  with  my  silver  toy,"  she 
put  in,  smiling;  "only  hear  me  further.  Among  the  things,  now, 
which  pleased  Uncle  so  that  he  let  it  go  unmelted,  and  brought  it 
here  with  him,  along  with  some  engraved  vases,  and  figures  of  the 
saints,  and  embossed  work,  is  a  little  altar-piece  with  two  wings 
made  to  clasp  together.  Upon  the  middle  piece,  not  larger  than  a 
man's  fist,  is  to  be  seen,  in  fine  work  artistically  embossed,  the  holy 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  89 

Dominicus,  as  he  kneels  before  the  Mother  of  God  with  the  child ; 
and  she  shows  to  him  the  white  dress  of  the  order  with  the  black 
scapulary,  with  the  little  cap  attached,  in  which  the  Dominicans  go 
about.  Upon  the  wings  of  the  altar-piece  is,  upon  one  the  dream  of 
the  saint's  mother  of  the  little  dog  having  in  his  muzzle  the  torch 
which  lights  the  world,  and  upon  the  other  the  saint  is  represented 
as  he  makes  alive  again  the  dead  architect  struck  down  under  a 
fallen  house." 

"  And  this  silver-work  ?  " 

"  This  silver-work  you  should  go  to  offer  at  the  altar  of  the  holy 
Dominicus  in  his  cloister  Santa  Sabina,  in  order  thereby  to  make 
the  monks  of  Santa  Sabina  your  best  friends." 

"Ah!     And  then?" 

"  And  when  you  then  present  to  the  prior  of  Santa  Sabina  the 
request  to  be  received  for  three  or  four  weeks  into  his  cloister,  in 
order  to  perform  exercises  therein,  you  can  be  sure  to  receive  no 
negative  answer." 

"I  —  Count  Egino  von  Ortenburg  —  shall  perform  exercises  with 
these  dogs  of  the  Lord  ? "  said  Egino,  with  restrained  laughter. 

"  Why  not  ?  If  you  will  not  do  it  in  the  belief  that  it  will  re- 
dound to  the  welfare  of  your  soul,  then  do  it  in  the  faith  that  in  the 
course  of  four  weeks  you  can  certainly  find  an  opportunity  to  see 
and  to  speak  to  the  woman  who  has  bewitched  you,  and  who  dwells 
almost  under  the  same  roof  with  these  '  dogs  of  the  Lord,'  perhaps 
daily  walks  about  in  the  same  garden  with  them." 

"  Indeed,  Irmgard,  your  thought  is  excellent  —  it  is  good,  very 
good  ;  and  so  be  it,  therefore,"  exclaimed  Egino,  excitedly.  "  I  will 
do  as  you  say ;  I  will,  if  necessary,  make  myself  a  monk  among 
these  black-white  men-burners ;  I  will  let  their  homilies  go  over 
me  without  betraying  in  my  countenance  what  I  think  of  all  this 
monkery.  Give  me  your  artistic  tablet ;  I  will  pay  Uncle  Kraps  for 
it  as  if  it  weighed  in  gold  what  it  weighs  in  silver." 

"  Wherefore  ?"  asked  Irmgard,  who  regarded  his  excitement  with 
a  look  out  of  which  spoke  something  like  care  or  depression. 
"  Wherefore  ?  "  she  asked,  coolly. 

"Because  your  advice  is  inestimable." 

"  Look  upon  it  that  way,  then,  and  give  up  wishing  to  pay  for  it." 

"You  not,  but  Uncle  Kraps." 

Irmgard  did  not  answer. 

"  Can  it  not  be  right  away,  to-day  ? "  cried  Egino. 


9o  LUTHER    IN   ROME, 

"  If  you  long  so  after  the  life  of  the  cloister,"  she  responded, 
smiling  painfully,  "why  not?  I  am  going  to  bring  you  the  jewel," 
she  said  then,  rising. 

"  Go,  go  —  bring  it.  If  we  make  use  of  the  time,  I  can  this  very 
night  sleep  in  a  cell  in  Santa  Sabina.  While  you  are  gone  I  will 
give  Gotz  his  instructions." 

Irmgard  reached  him  her  hand  quickly ;  he  wished  to  say  to  her 
by  a  warm  pressure  how  very  much  she  had  placed  him  under 
obligation  ;  but  she  drew  it  hastily  away  again.  She  avoided  meet- 
ing his  eyes,  lighted  with  joy  and  hope,  and  the  next  moment  had 
disappeared  from  the  chamber. 

When  she  was  outside,  in  the  street,  she  went  slowly,  with  her 
eyes  fastened  upon  the  ground.  Before  the  Church  of  San  Silvestro, 
at  the  end  of  the  street  where  Egino  lived,  she  remained  standing  a 
moment ;  then  turned  to  the  door  of  the  church,  lifted  high  the  heavy 
leathern  curtain  which  covered  the  entrance,  and  walked  into  the 
dark  little  vestibule,  which  was  separated  from  the  nave  of  the 
church  by  a  high  grating.  Did  she  wish  to  pray  in  the  cool  twilight 
room  ?  It  seemed  not  ;  she  seated  herself  upon  the  dark  wooden 
bench  which  ran  along  the  wall,  folded  idly,  and  as  if  weary,  her 
hands  upon  her  lap,  and  thus  stared  into  the  church,  but  as  if  into 
empty  space. 

The  round-arched  window  over  the  altar  in  front  of  her  was 
curtained  with  a  green  material.  It  must  have  been  the  reflection 
of  this  color  which  made  Irmgard's  features  so  frightfully  pale. 


CHAPTER  XL 

HOW   THE    SOUL-PLANT   GROWS. 

|NLY  a  few  weeks  before,  even  on  the  day  on  which  he  had 
in  such  enthusiastic  terms  depicted  to  Donna  Ottavia  the 
impression  which  Rome  made  upon  him,  Egino  would 
have  repelled  the  thought  upon  which  he  was  now  so 
rashly  and  eargerly  about  to  act. 

To  introduce  himself  into  a  house  under  a  false  pretence ;  to  lie ; 
to  feign  a  religious  need  which  he  did  not  feel,  —  he  would  have 
found  it  impossible ! 

But  his  nature  had,  in  this  short  interval,  made  a  whole  circle  of 
evolution.  The  plant  of  his  soul  had  been  set  in  this  Rome  as  in  a 
forcing  hot-house ;  it  had  put  forth  the  gigantic  shoots  of  a  banana, 
of  a  wild  vine,  in  the  heated,  excited  atmosphere  wherein  he  had 
now  lived  for  months. 

The  soul  of  man,  with  all  its  life  of  thought  and  feeling,  is  a  plant 
needing  a  soil  to  which  it  may  cleave,  with  which  it  may  entwine  its 
roots,  into  which  it  may  strive  to  grow.  There  is  an  inner  depend- 
ent being.  Man  is  bound  to  something,  while  the  animal  is  free. 
The  lion  roams  through  his  desert,  the  eagle  circles  about  his  rocks, 
and  the  fox  hunts  through  the  forest ;  when  the  appetites  upon  which 
their  life  depends  are  appeased,  they  live  in  satisfaction.  There  is 
something  absolute  about  the  animal ;  it  is  on  account  of  his  nature. 
In  him  is  the  peace  and  rest  of  self-sufficiency;  he  has  in  him  some- 
thing of  that  to  which  the  highest  human  wisdom  or  the  profoundest 
depths  of  knowledge  cannot  attain, —  which  the  East  Indian  view 
of  the  world  portrays  when  it  names  the  limit  of  man's  upward 
development  the  Nirvana.  This  feeling  of  satisfied  existence,  which, 
at  most,  comes  to  us  in  some  moments  like  flashes  of  light,  which 
lighten  upon  our  restless  being  and  which  we  call  moments  of 
joy,  remains  unknown  as  a  continuous  state  to  the  soul-plant  of 
our  nature.  It  has  always  to  seek  a  soil  for  its  roots,  a  hold  for  its 

9' 


92  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

climbing  tendrils.  So  long  as  it  is  young  it  throws  itself  forward  to 
meet  external  appearances.  As  the  flower  turns  its  head  to  the  sun, 
so  it  turns  itself  toward  the  glitter  of  life,  toward  all  that  appears 
full  of  grandeur  and  triumph.  It  revels  in  the  fullness  of  great  and 
dazzling  appearances.  It  shoots  forth  in  the  history  of  the  past, 
of  the  present ;  the  plant  lays  its  searching  tendrils  about  glittering, 
but  —  often  hollow  images. 

Experiences  come ;  the  school  of  life  gives  compulsory  instruction 
about  the  worth  and  the  kernel  of  outward  appearances,  about  the 
smallness  and  poverty  of  earthly  greatness.  Man  turns  himself  from 
things  to  the  idea  of  things ;  having  become  sharp-sighted,  he  seeks 
to  unite  his  life  to  the  life  of  thought, — to  the  mind-world.  He 
stretches  himself  upward  to  the  great  ground-pillars  of  philosophic 
truths  ;  in  intercourse  with  the  abstract  and  with  the  struggling  after 
higher  standpoints,  he  climbs  to  another  trellis,  which  he  entwines 
above,  in  order  from  its  heights  to  obtain  a  view  of  the  infinite. 

But  this  is  only  for  awhile ;  upon  this  struggle  follows  resigna- 
tion :  the  searching  glances,  which  would  sweep  into  the  infinite, 
return  discouraged  and  weary.  They  turn  themselves  from  the 
misty,  dazzling  appearances,  to  the  only  one  which  they  have  suc- 
ceeded in  searching  out ;  but  there  the  soul  cannot  be  without 
clinging  to  something  outside  of  itself,  so  it  seeks  something  new 
with  the  spirit.  Upon  the  mental  evolution  of  human  culture  fol- 
lows the  spiritual.  It  throws  all  its  force  to  this  side,  and  at  the 
end  of  the  growth-period  it  strikes  out  into  still,  gentle,  modest 
blossoms  of  the  heart,  which  could  not  burst  forth  without  another 
something,  — a  something  foreign  to  itself,  which  it  needs,  for  which 
they  are,  and  through  which  they  live. 

In  Egino  had  a  similar  circuit  completed  itself  within  a  short  time. 
Within  a  brief  space  impulses  the  most  diverse  had  become  power- 
ful in  him ;  it  was  as  if  within  weeks  he  had  run  through  that 
development  which,  at  other  times,  might  fill  out  a  human  life. 

The  dazzling  appearances  of  Rome  had  at  first  taken  deep  hold 
upon  him,  as  if  unhinged  him,  made  him  dizzy.  Still,  on  that  morn- 
ing in  the  "parva  domus"  this  impulse  had  sounded  itself  fully  out ; 
but  near  to  that  which  inspired  and  thoroughly  filled  him,  stood  too 
close  that  which  repelled,  aroused,  and  irritated  him.  And  after  the 
experience  in  the  house  of  Savelli,  the  enthusiasm  subsided,  — 
turned  to  ashes.  It  had  brought  about  a  revolution  of  his  entire 
being.  In  the  hours  of  his  solitary  wanderings  about  he  had  often 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  93 

yielded  to  fits  of  deep  melancholy ;  often  had  looked  with  bitterness 
upon  the  world  around  him  here,  which,  so  short  a  time  before,  had 
been  so  charming  to  him.  Then,  again,  he  would  succeed  in  wrest- 
ling against  this  ;  in  tearing  himself  away  from  the  pain  ;  in  saving 
himself  through  quiet,  plain  consideration  and  composed  reckoning 
with  the  facts.  He  had  then  been  strong  enough  to  find  this  com- 
posure. But  there  had  lain  for  him  no  consolation  in  that  which  the 
reckoning  enabled  him  to  find.  He  was  too  young  to  console  him- 
self, as  Callisto  had  done,  with  the  resigned  "nil  admirari;"  he 
brooded  over  the  how  and  the  wherefore  of  a  history  whose  frag- 
ments lay  around  him,  at  some  day  to  be  covered  with  the  layers  of 
new  fragments  and  ruins.  What  remained  of  it  all  ?  What  was  the 
eternal  essence  and  import  of  these  appearances  ?  For  what  pur- 
poses did  the  centuries  work  upon  stupendous  structures  which  again 
fell  into  ruin  and  became  dwarfed  —  upon  religions,  states,  and  uni- 
versal empires,  like  this  of  Rome  ?  Thus  questioning  himself,  he 
was  led  to  meditate  upon  the  great  cosmology  which,  like  a  gray, 
heathen  goddess  of  Destiny,  sat  upon  old  Rome,  or  like  a  gloomy 
Christian  sibyl  stretched  out  her  hand  over  new  Rome,  and  in  dark 
oracles  informed  her  of  the  on-rolling,  annihilating  waves  of  the 
future.  This  absorption  in  the  import  of  the  world  surrounding 
him,  in  the  philosophy  of  the  fixed  fact,  Rome,  was  something  which 
filled  him  with  endless  sadness,  depression,  and  hopelessness.  There 
was  a  nihilistic  nucleus  in  that  great  cosmology,  which  oppressed 
Egino's  youthful  soul ;  he  dared  not  look  into  the  eyes  of  that  great 
goddess  of  Destiny,  as  if  feeling  that  the  lightning  of  her  glance  could 
make  the  blood  in  his  veins  stiff  with  cold.  The  thought  of  nonen- 
tity is  as  a  drop  of  prussic  acid  :  it  stuns,  it  stops  henceforth,  in  a 
youthful  heart,  every  warm  life-throb ;  and  in  this  impulse,  this 
agitation,  this  fermentation,  Egino's  whole  being  had  yielded  itself 
so  much  the  more  fully  to  the  new  current,  the  current  of  passion, 
into  which  it  rushed  the  more  inconsiderately,  as  bound  with  it  was 
a  kind  of  escape  from  a  painful  and  unhappy  condition.  It  was  an 
escape  from  anxiety  over  a  doctrine,  a  truth,  which  he  saw  rising 
before  him,  and  would  not  see ;  a  doctrine  which  is  poison  for  the 
young,  and  not  always  a  wholesome  drink  for  the  old. 

Egino  fled  from  his  mind  into  his  heart,  in  which  he  loved 
Corradina.  He  fled  out  of  a  cold,  stormy  night  into  a  warm  circle  of 
light.  Even  if  there  was  for  him  no  hope  to  force  himself  into  this 
circle,  and  therein  be  able  to  hide  himself,  his  soul  flowed  out 


94  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

thitherward  with  all  its  emotions ;  his  whole  heart  fled  toward  it ; 
his  eye  was  fixed  upon  that  alone  as  his  only  salvation  upon  earth  ; 
and  in  his  reckless  impulse  toward  her,  all  his  pride  of  virtue  had 
been  overcome.  When  Irmgard's  advice  awakened  in  him  a  hope, 
he  felt  that  in  his  emotions  lay  his  right.  In  the  struggle  for  this 
right,  which  consecrated  every  weapon  upon  which  he  could  seize, 
he  did  not  think  of  refusing  an  armor  which  served  his  purpose,  al- 
though this  armor  was  a  disguise,  a  mask,  a  lie.  Love  accepts  laws 
only  from  itself. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

IN    THE    CLOISTER. 

"  S/ie  walks  in  beauty  like  the  night." — LORD  BYRON. 

FEW  hours  later  Egino  was,  with  Irmgard,  walking  to 
and  fro  upon  the  quiet,  open  space  before  the  church  of 
Santa  Sabina.     He  had  sent  his  servant  into  the  interior 
of  the  cloister  to  make  known  to  the  prior  his  wish,  and 
now  waited  upon  the  return  of  faithful  Gotz. 

Irmgard  carried  upon  her  arm  the  silver  ornament  of  which  she 
had  spoken,  wrapped  in  a  white  cloth. 

"Will  you  Visit  me  in  the  cloister,  Irmgard  ?"  asked  Egino. 

"It  will  scarcely  be  allowed  you  -to  receive  such  visits." 

"  Would  they  recognize  you  in  your  costume  ?  " 

"And  if  they  did  not,  so " 

"  I  would  not  like  to  be  whole  weeks  without  hearing  from  you  — 
from  you  and  your  poor  Uncle.  Let  me  take  you  with  me  there  now 
into  the  cloister,  as  my  trusted  servant  to  carry  this  silver  jewel ; 
thus  you  might,  indeed,  receive  the  permission,  at  one  time  or 
another,  to  look  after  me  here.  Will  you  ? " 

"  To  what  purpose  would  it  serve  you,  sir  ?  You  have  your  faith- 
ful servant,  whom  you  will  need  to  keep  with  you." 

"  What  is  the  servant  to  me  ?  Can  I  talk  with  him  as  with  you  ? 
And  if  I  should  fall  into  dangers  or  helplessness,  where  I  should 
need  counsel  —  I  have  just  seen  how  quickly  your  clever  brain  finds 
out  an  advice." 

"Well,  then,  if  you  really  place  much  stress  upon  it,  I  will  now 
go  with  you  and  show  myself  in  the  cloister,  in  order  that  they  may 
admit  me  to  you  later." 

"  Do  it,  do  it,  Irmgard  ;  it  is  to  me  almost  as  if  I  had  found  a 
sister  in  you." 

"  In  me,  the  poor  bell-founder's  child  ?      You,  the  princely  lord  ? " 

"  I  do  not  think  my  princeliness  alters  it  much,"  said  Egino.    "  At 

95 


96  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

home  it  may  dazzle  the  tenants  of  my  brother ;  what  is  it  here  — 
here  in  Rome  ?  Therefore  it  will  not  even  make  you  proud  if  I  say 
It  to  you,  you  poor  bell-founder's  child,  as  you  call  yourself — if  I  say 
to  you,  I  feel  it  is  so.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  you  belong  to  my  life  ;  as 
if  you  are  no  friend,  but  it  lies  as  if  in  our  destiny  that  our  life-paths 
should  cross  each  other,  and  then  we  should  go  along  near  to  each 
other,  rich  in  help  one  for  the  other  in  this  strange  land." 

"  And  still  you  let  yourself  go  a  long  while,  sir,"  said  Irmgard, 
coolly,  "without  being  led  by  this  feeling  to  see  what  had  become  of 
us  ;  and  only  to-day,  when  I  serve  your  —  passion,  this  knowledge 
comes  to  you." 

"  You  are  right,  Irmgard ;  but  what  will  you  have  ? "  responded 
Egino,  unabashed.  "  Is  it  not  customary  that  much  which  lies  in 
us  first  becomes  known,  when  an  emergency,  an  outward  impulse, 
comes  and  draws  it  out." 

Egino's  servant  at  this  moment  stepped  forward  out  of  the  clois- 
ter door ;  a  monk  in  a  white  habit  was  with  him.  He  had  permis- 
sion to  conduct  Egino  to  the  prior. 

Egino  and  Irmgard  followed  the  monk  into  the  interior  of  the 
cloister.  Gotz  walked  after  them,  a  knapsack  with  articles  for  his 
master  under  his  arm. 

A  broad,  dark  passage  received  them  ;  when  they  passed  farther 
in,  it  grew  lighter,  and  opened  on  the  left  side  with  light,  graceful 
arches  upon  a  beautiful,  though  small,  cloister  court,  around  which  a 
vaulted  pathway  ran.  A  fountain  played  within ;  the  jet  of  water 
seemed  to  exert  itself  to  spring  so  high  that  it  might  ascend  to  the 
region  of  the  sunlight  falling  down  over  the  roofs,  which  sparkled 
and  flashed  in  its  upper  part.  Some  oleanders  and  orange  trees 
stood  motionless  near  by.  There  prevailed  a  wonderful  quiet  and 
stillness  in  the  little  court.  At  the  end  of  the  walk  was  a  doorway 
closed  by  a  curtain,  which  the  monk  lifted  in  order  to  let  Egino  and 
his  companions  enter.  At  a  long  table  in  the  background  of  the 
lofty  and  vaulted  chamber  into  which  they  came  sat  three  monks, 
likewise  in  white  habits ;  the  black  scapularies  which  belonged  to 
their  complete  costume  they  had  thrown  aside,  on  account  of  the 
warm  day.  One  could  scarcely  have  distinguished  their  costume 
from  that  of  Brother  Martin,  except  the  latter  fastened  his  habit 
with  a  leathern  girdle,  — the  only  token  of  the  rise  of  his  order  from 
a  poor  anchorite. 

Between  the  monks  lay  books  and  manuscripts  pushed  together  in 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  97 

a  heap  ;  the  brothers  appeared  gay,  and  as  if  they  had  been  chatting 
about  things  quite  different  from  those  contained  in  their  books. 
One  of  them,  a  stately  man,  with  a  round,  benevolent  face,  about 
whose  shorn  pate  lay  a  wreath  of  blonde-gray  hair,  now  arose  and 
came  slowly  forward  to  meet  Egino. 

"Let  Jesus  Christ  be  praised!"  he  said.  "You  are  a  German 
count,  and  desire  to  be  allowed  to  bring  here  an  offering  to  the 
holy  Dominicus  for  the  salvation  of  your  soul  ? " 

"  It  is  even  so,  worthy  father ;  and,  moreover,  it  is  further  my 
desire  to  be  received  for  some  weeks  into  your  cloister,  and  there- 
in be  allowed  to  perform  spiritual  devotions." 

"  Well,  well,  these  are  praiseworthy  motives  which  lead  you  to  us. 
We  hope  your  devotions  will  be  as  pleasing  to  the  beloved  God, 
as  your  offering  to  the  holy  Dominicus.  In  what  does  it  consist  ?  " 

Egino  beckoned  to  Irmgard ;  she  drew  back  the  cloth  from  her 
light  burden,  laid  it  upon  the  table,  and  opened  the  two  wings  which 
covered  the  middle  piece  of  the  little  altar-ornament. 

"Ecco,  ecco,  e  cosa  bellissima,  cosa  rara!"  exclaimed  the  blonde- 
gray,  the  prior,  while  the  other  monks  crowded  around  to  examine 
this  antique  work  of  art. 

"San  Dominico  e  la  Madonna!  e  fatto  molto  bene!"  said  one 
while  'another  took  up  the  whole  thing,  and  balancing  it  in  his 
hand  exclaimed  :  — 

"  It  is  worth  about  fifty  scudi  !  " 

They  appeared  to  rejoice  over  Egino's  present  as  children  over 
a  plaything.  The  prior  began  to  explain  the  figures ;  and  when 
that  was  done,  he  ordered  the  brother  who  had  conducted  Egino, 
to  take  it  to  the  father  vicar-general  of  the  order,  that  he  might 
see  it. 

At  all  this  Egino  felt  the  anxiety  with  which  he  had  presented  his 
request  disappear.  He  saw,  indeed,  how  susceptible  these  good  sons 
of  the  holy  Dominicus  showed  themselves  to  have  introduced  in  this 
way  a  contract  with  them,  and  so  he  brought  forward  with  so  much 
the  less  embarrassment  his  request  to  become  so  quartered  in  the 
cloister  that  he  could  go  at  all  times  of  the  day  into  the  garden,  and 
could  keep  his  servant  Gotz  with  him. 

"You  do  not  need  your  servant,"  replied  the  prior,  "for  you  will 
have  one  of  our  brethren  at  your  service.  Your  additional  wish,  how- 
ever, to  be  allowed  to  entertain  yourself  every  hour  in  our  garden, 
has  nothing  in  its  way.  Our  garden  stands  always  open  to  the  occu- 


98  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

pants  of  our  cloister;  and  if  you  are  so  great  a  friend  to  walking  for 
pleasure  in  the  fresh  air,  Father  Eustachius,  the  exercise-master 
(Where  is  Father  Eustachius?  Let  some  one  call  him),  may  show 
you  to  a  cell  which  opens  out  to  the  garden  and  out  of  whose  win- 
dows, furthermore,  you  can  see  far  over  San  Michael's  to  the  Janic- 
ulum." 

"  And  will  it  be  allowed,  while  I  am  here,  that  from  time  to  time 
this  trusted  servant" — Egino  pointed  to  Irmgard  —  "may  come 
to  me  to  bring  news,  if  letters  or  messages  arrive  for  me  from 
home  ? " 

"While  you  are  here  in  the  walls  of  this  cloister,  you  must  forget 
the  world  and  what  takes  place  in  it,"  interposed  the  prior.  "  Of 
what  use  would  the  spiritual  exercises  be  to  you  if  they  did  not 
overcome  the  world  that  is  in  you? " 

"You  are  right,  worthy  father;  but  I  am  here  in  Rome  for  the 
sake  of  important  business  of  our  house,  which  I  have  to  carry  on 
with  the  Rota  and  with  influential  men ;  and  hence  it  might  become 
necessary  to  receive  and  return  communications." 

"  So,  so  ;  well,  then,  let  it  be  as  you  wish.  The  porter  may  admit 
to  you  your  page,  there,  when  he  presents  himself.  Your  knapsack 
your  servant  may  lay  there  on  the  floor  ;  some  one  will  take  it  to 
your  cell.  And  there  is  the  father  exercise-master,  in  whose  guard- 
ianship I  place  you  so  long  as  you  tarry  among  us  poor  sons  of  the 
Saint,  in  order  to  atone  for  your  sins,  and  through  penitence,  prayer, 
meditation,  and  the  holy  sacraments,  to  purify  the  garments  of  your 
soul  from  earthly  dust." 

The  exercise-master,  who  now  entered,  was  a  meager  man  with  a 
yellow  face,  deep-set,  coal-black  eyes,  and  a  wreath  of  hair  no  less 
black.  With  his  deep-cut  features,  his  high-peaked  crown,  his  down- 
cast, and,  from  time  to  time,  suddenly  and  sharply  uplifted  glance,  he 
made  upon  Egino  a  disagreeable  impression.  For  the  kind  of  soul- 
washing  he  pretended  to  desire,  the  florid,  open-faced  prior,  descend- 
ant of  some  northern  land,  would  have  been  to  him  as  a  bath-master 
preferable  to  the  emaciated  southerner  ;  but  he  guarded  himself  from 
uttering  this  wish,  and  bowed  respectfully  before  the  man,  approach- 
ing him  with  noiseless  and  measured  step,  and  above  whom  he 
towered  at  least  a  head. 

The  exercise-master  reviewed  the  foreign  company,  his  glance  re- 
maining fixed  longest  and  most  sharply  upon  Irmgard,  and  then 
looked  speechless  and  inquiring  at  the  prior. 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  99 

"  Our  German  guest  is  a  friend  of  fresh  air,"  said  the  latter  ;  "let 
there  be  given  to  him  the  cell  by  the  garden,  which  was  formerly 
occupied  by  the  Marchese  del  Monte.  You" — he  turned  then  to 
Egino's  servant  — "lay  your  master's  baggage  down,  now  ;  some  one 
will  take  it  immediately  to  the  cell." 

"Then  good-bye  !  "  said  Egino,  while  he  reached  Irmgardhis  hand, 
and  dismissed  his  servant  with  a  nod  of  the  head.  Then  he  turned 
to  the  exercise-master,  who  still  stood  unmoved,  and  followed  with 
keen  glance  Egino's  retreating  companions. 

"  Come  !  "  said  Father  Eustachius,  finally,  after  the  curtain  of  the 
door  had  fallen  behind  the  last  one. 

With  a  "Blessed  be  Jesus  Christ!"  the  prior  now  dismissed  his 
guest,  and  Egino  followed  Father  Eustachius,  who  led  him  again 
through  the  same  door  into  the  corridor. 

Having  arrived  at  the  archway,  Father  Eustachius  turned  to  the 
right ;  soon  after  he  remained  standing  before  a  closed  door,  and 
murmured  softly  the  words  :  — 

"Wait  here." 

He  stepped  away  from  Egino,  walking  slowly  down  the  archway, 
then  back  again  no  less  slowly,  as  if  by  walking  to  and  fro  to  pass 
away  the  time  of  waiting. 

"  Father  Eustachius  seems  to  be  a  man  of  no  immoderate  impulse 
to  speak,"  thought  Egino.  " That  is  always  a  good  thing;  he  will 
indeed  let  me  have  quiet  to  think  of  other  things  besides  his  saints 
and  their  castigations." 

A  lay  brother  came  with  the  keys.  The  cell  was  opened  and 
Egino  saw  himself  conducted  into  a  room  tolerably  spacious  for  a 
cloister-cell,  and  already  sufficiently  well  arranged  to  leave  nothing 
else  to  be  desired  except  a  little  more  order  and  cleanliness. 

Father  Eustachius  had  disappeared  the  instant  that  Egino 
entered  his  cell.  The  latter  saw  himself  suddenly  alone  with  the 
serving  brother. 

"Where  is  the  exercise-master?"  he  asked,  a  little  astonished. 
"The  man  appears  to  be  as  sparing  of  his  person  as  of  his  words." 

"  He  will  be  back  immediately,  sir,"  responded  the  lay  brother, 
"as  soon  as  you  shall  first  have  settled  yourself  a  little.  What 
orders  have  you  for  me  ?  " 

"That  you  bring  hither  my  things  which  my  servant  carried,  and 
then  bring  more  order  into  this  room." 

The  brother  went. 


ioo  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

Egino  went  to  the  window  of  the  cell  and  opened  it.  The  prospect 
which  it  presented  to  him  was  of  most  captivating  beauty.  Above 
the  garden  lying  beneath,  towered,  on  the  left,  the  lofty  structure  of 
the  church  of  Santa  Sabina ;  and  above  the  wall  surrounding  the 
garden  he  saw  a  good  bit  of  the  Eternal  City  before  him,  and  beyond 
the  Janiculum  even  as  far  as  the  Vatican.  Farther  to  the  right  was 
the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo ;  the  Capitol,  however,  was  hidden  by  the 
towers  of  the  Savelli  Castle.  From  the  surroundings  of  this  castle 
the  cloister  garden  was  shut  off  by  a  wall,  along  which,  on  the  inside, 
stood  a  row  of  cypresses.  Upon  their  dark  green  lay,  in  wonderful 
golden  sheen,  the  splendor  of  the  now  fast-declining  sun. 

The  lay  brother  returned,  bringing  with  him  the  knapsack  con- 
taining Egino's  effects. 

Then  he  began  to  put  things  in  order. 

"  Saint  Dominicus,"  said  Egino,  turning  from  the  window  toward 
the  brother,  "dwells  here  very  close  to  the  castle  of  the  Savelli. 
Do  the  saint  and  the  lords  of  the  castle  maintain  good  neighborly 
relations  ? " 

"Why  should  they  not  ?  "  responded  the  monk,  looking  up.  "  San 
Dominico  is  a  great  sanctifier  of  all  that  belongs  to  this  house. 
You  must  know  that  more  than  three  hundred  years  ago  Pope 
Honorius  III.,  who  was  a  Savelli,  and  resided  near  us  in  the  castle, 
erected  to  the  saint  this  cloister  among  his  own  habitations,  and, 
therefore,  you  see  the  towers  and  walls  standing  so  close  around. 
They  protect  San  Dominico's  poor  sons ;  it  is  all  as  if  one  building. 
The  Savelli  have  their  way  through  our  cloister  when  they  wish  to 
go  into  the  church." 

"Into  the  church  of  Santa  Sabina?" 

"Yes,  sir ;  into  our  church.  And  they  also  have  their  own  oratory 
in  our  church,  and  on  the  great  feast  days  like  Easter  and " 

"  And  the  occupants  of  the  castle  walk  through  your  cloister  into 
the  church  ? "  interposed  Egino,  aroused. 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  the  male  occupants.  The  female  occupants,  you  know, 
are  of  course  not  allowed  to  walk  through  the  cloister ! " 

"  But  the  female  occupants  ?  " 

"  What  did  you  ask,  sir,  about  them  ?  " 

"  How  do  they  get  into  the  church  ?  " 

"They?  Well,  like  other  people;  outside  over  the  way  of  all  — 
that  is,  such  as  belong  to  the  servants  ;  the  ladies  are  allowed  to  go 
through  the  garden  under  this  window.  A  little  door  leads  from  our 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  101 

garden  into  the  church,  but  none  of  the  domestics  are  allowed 
it " 

"  So  will  I  see  the  ladies  of  the  Savelli  family  pass  by  under  my 
window  ? "  interrogated  Egino,  in  a  tone  as  indifferent  as  possible. 

"  You  will  not  see  many  of  them,  sir ;  only  the  widow  of  the  poor 
Lord  Luca,  who  recently,  so  soon  after  he  had  been  married,  had  to 
die.  The  others  dwell  beyond  at  Montanara,  on  Monte  Savello." 

Egino's  heart  beat  so  violently  at  the  words  of  the  monk,  which 
opened  to  him  the  prospect  of  hourly  seeing  Corradina,  that  he 
feared  to  betray  his  emotion  should  he  utter  another  syllable  more. 
He  turned  again  silently  to  the  window,  while  the  lay  brother  con- 
tinued to  move  and  dust  the  furniture,  and  to  put  in  order  the  couch 
in  the  corner.  ' 

When  the  monk  went  out,  Egino  followed  him.  "  Will  you  show 
me  the  way  into  the  garden,  brother  ?  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"Alessio." 

"Then,  Brother  Alessio,  show  me  where  you  go  out  into  the  gar- 
den," said  Egino. 

"You  must  await  here  the  father  exercise-master,  sir,"  said  the 
monk. 

"  Must  I  ?  He  has  not  announced  to  me  his  visit.  Still,  let  it 
be  so." 

Egino  returned  to  his  cell,  and  standing  at  the  window  awaited 
the  father  exercise-master. 

Father  Eustachius,  however,  did  not  appear.  Egino  was  in  the 
act  of  leaving  his  cell,  to  seek  for  himself  the  way  into  the  garden, 
when  the  bell  rang,  and  Brother  Alessio  entered  to  call  him  to  the 
supper  of  the  monks.  Egino  followed  him  with  firm,  confident  step 
through  the  passages  which  led  to  the  refectory.  He  was  peculiarly, 
but  joyously  and  courageously,  excited  by  the  venture  which  gave 
such  excellent  promise  of  success.  If  he  had  met  Irmgard  in  these 
passages,  he  would  have  embraced  his  clever  page  out  of  gratitude 
for  her  good  counsel. 

In  the  long  dining-hall  of  the  monks  his  place  was  assigned  him 
near  the  prior.  Egino  had  ample  leisure  to  observe  this  company  of 
fifty  or  sixty  white-robed  men,  who  sat  down  the  long  room  in  two 
rows  to  partake  of  their  frugal  evening  repast  of  mingled  wine,  bread, 
cheese,  and  fruits  ;  for  they  all  sat  silent,  while  upon  a  little  platform 
in  the  centre  of,  the  refectory  sat  the  father  reader,  and  out  of  a  thick 
Latin  book  read  to  them  a  long  legend  about  a  pious  painter  whom 


102  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

a  miracle  saved  from  certain  death.  The  old  monk  read  it  with 
credulous  fervor.  The  painter  had  all  his  lifetime  been  an  especial 
worshiper  of  the  spotless  virgin.  Hence  he  painted  with  holy  zeal, 
as  he  had  been  commissioned  to  do  by  the  brotherhood  of  his  clois- 
ter, in  a  church,  high  up  on  the  wall,  the  Madonna  standing  upon 
the  globe  of  the  earth  and  the  crescent  moon  with  her  head  encirled 
with  stars  —  "the  Immaculata."  The  evil  fiend  became  exasperated 
over  this,  full  of  indignation  and  rage,  for  he  had  already  a  long  time 
sought  to  destroy  the  pious  painter  ;  and  now  he  seized  this  excellent 
opportunity,  and  cunningly  sawed  through  the  props  of  the  scaffold 
upon  which  the  painter,  wholly  absorbed  in  his  work,  was  laboring. 
The  scaffold  tottered, —  broke  down  ;  the  boards  suddenly  gave  way 
under  the  feet  of  the  unfortunate  painter.  But  see  !  the  Madonna 
painted  by  him  opens  her  arms,  embraces  her  pious  worshiper, 
presses  him  to  her  soft,  pitying  breast  till  some  one,  summoned  by 
the  noise  of  the  broken  scaffold,  comes,  and  with  ladders  takes  him 
down  from  where  he  was  hanging  to  the  wall  above,  out  of  the  arms 
of  the  protecting  Mother  of  Heaven. 

The  Dominican  order  in  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century 
represented  the  learning  of  the  church  ;  it  was  the  fountain,  the 
guardian,  of  scholastic  science,  through  which  the  evolution  of 
dogmas  had  been  carried  on  ;  it  maintained  the  chair  of  literature  at 
the  academies;  it  occupied  the  courts  of  justice  which  rendered 
decisions  over  the  orthodoxy  or  heterodoxy  of  opinions  and  of  sys- 
tems, and  directed  the  consciences. 

And  the  men  of  this  order  listened  with  devotion  to  such  tales ! 

Could  anything  be  more  significant  ?  Could  anything  be  more 
terrible  than  that  the  consciences  of  men  should  be  subjected  to  the 
verdict,  to  the  control  of  men  who  had  been  brought  up  with  such 
views,  in  such  a  spiritual  atmosphere,  and  who  remained  therein  to 
the  end  of  their  days  ? 

With  devotion,  we  said  just  now.  But  no;  they  did  not  all  listen 
with  devotion.  Upon  the  physiognomies  of  the  most  diverse  kind, 
young  and  old,  with  the  type  of  the  South  and  that  of  the  North ; 
upon  the  now  broad  and  comfortable,  now  deep-cut,  marked,  emacia- 
ted faces,  lay  the  expression  of  most  diverse  inner  occupation  of 
thought,  or  yet  of  utter  want  of  thought.  While  to  what  was 
presented  some  held  their  ear  closed,  evidently  only  from  stupid 
indifference,  being  busied  only  with  the  bites  they  swallowed  and 
the  contents  of  the  mug  they  emptied,  there  were  others  evidently 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  103 

lost  in  meditation,  and  with  their  thoughts  widely  remote  from  this 
place.  Some,  again,  looked  with  inquiring  or  hostile  glances  furtively 
and  clandestinely  upon  their  neighbors. 

Egino  listened  carelessly  to  the  legend  of  the  pater  lector.  The 
Italian  accent  with  which  the  man  brought  forth  and  Italianized  his 
Latin,  had  something  in  it  which  forced  him  to  a  smile ;  the  story  it- 
self, however,  called  forth  in  him  a  kind  of  indignant  haughtiness 
toward  this  whole  world.  It  did  the  last,  in  order  to  take  to  him 
the  feeling  of  anxiety  and  a  certain  sadness  with  which  he  had 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  cloister. 

In  the  monk  who  sat  opposite  him,  on  the  other  side  of  the  table, 
he  recognized  the  one  whom  he  had  seen  in  the  house-chapel  of  the 
Savelli ;  who  had  wedded  Corradina  to  the  dead  Luca^  Savelli. 

While  he  was  observing  him,  he  did  not  perceive  how  sharply  and 
searchingly  the  eye  of  Father  Eustachius  lay  upon  him,  as  he  sat 
farther  down  on  the  other  side  of  the  table. 

When  the  prior  had  arisen,  and  after  the  youngest  of  the  company, 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  table,  had  pronounced  the  benediction, 
Father  Eustachius  approached  Egino. 

"You  will  see  me  appear  before  you  in  the  morning,  sir,"  he  said, 
while  over  his  gloomy  face  he  allowed  to  glide  a  smile,  which  he 
meant  to  be  friendly.  "  I  think  you  will  know  how  to  thank  me  that 
I  let  you  alone  this  evening ;  you  are  a  child  of  the  world,  and  when 
such  an  one  enters  into  a  circle  so  strange  as  ours  is  to  him,  there 
crowd  upon  him,  indeed,  many  impressions.  One  must  let  him  have 
time  to  overcome  these,  to  collect  himself,  before  requiring  of  him 
absorption  in  holy  thoughts.  Only  perfectly  smooth  water  is  able  to 
mirror  the  blue  of  heaven." 

"  Still,  the  Master  passed  over  the  Sea  of  Gennesaret  when  it  was 
swelling  with  the  storm,"  answered  Egino.  "  But  I  will  not  contra- 
dict you,  worthy  sir,  and  thank  you  for  your  considerateness." 

Father  Eustachius  did  not  reply.  He  seemed,  after  having  spoken 
his  words,  to  wish  to  lay  aside  all  discussion  of  them,  and  silently 
nodding  his  head  went  out. 

Egino  left  the  refectory,  and  as  he  fell  upon  his  lay  brother  out- 
side, he  repeated  his  request  to  be  conducted  into  the  cloister  garden. 

The  cloister  garden  consisted  of  a  terrace  running  along  the  side 
of  the  building  in  which  was  found  Egino's  cell,  and  another  deeper- 
lying  portion,  which  was  inclosed  by  several  walks  hedged  with  ever- 
green plants,  laurels,  box  and  yew,  and  crossing  each  other  at  right 


104  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

angles.  Behind  these  hedges,  upon  the  little  inclosed  squares,  grew 
nothing  but  a  thirsty  turf,  which  the  want  of  sun  and  air  had  stunted. 
These  garden-beds  were  there  only  for  the  sake  of  the  garden-paths ;. 
they  lay  thus  dry  and  barren,  like  many  a  human  life  which  spun  it- 
self away  in  this  cloister.  Above,  however,  the  terrace  was  planted 
with  a  row  of  old  orange  trees,  upon  which  hung  an  abundance  of 
fruit,  already  beginning,  here  and  there,  ^to  become  golden. 

In  the  shadows  of  the. cloister  wall  at  the  left,  and  of  .the  row  of 
orange  trees  at  the  right,  must  Corradina  walk  when  she  betook 
herself  to  the  Church  of  Santa  Sabina.  On  the  north  end  of  the  ter- 
race there  was  to  be  found,  in  a  niche  of  the  wall,  a  little  door  of 
iron-clasped  boards  with  sharp,  vaulted  arch,  which  evidently  led  into 
the  garden  or  hinder  court  of  the  Savelli  Castle.  At  the  south  end 
of  the  terrace,  above  some  steps,  appeared  a  similar,  but  less-care- 
fully  guarded  door,  which  was  even  only  on  the  latch,  and  which  led 
into  the  interior  of  the  church. 

"  The  life-path  of  Corradina  runs  through  shadows,"  said  Egino  to 
himself,  a  little  low-spirited  and  depressed,  when  he  had  explored  the 
nature  of  the  locality.  "  Shall  I  ever  succeed  in  forcing  myself  to 
her  out  of  all  these  walls,  and  in  winning  her  to  light  and  life  ?  Will 
that  iron-clasped  door  ever  open  itself  for  me,  or  shall  I  ever  be  able 
to  climb  over  this  wall  running  under  the  cypress  row,  and  separa- 
ting the  region  of  the  cloister  from  that  of  the  neighboring  castle  ? " 

The  wall  was  everywhere  very  steep,  very  high.  The  baron  and 
the  monk  had  found  themselves  very  near  together ;  the  saints  and 
the  knights  had  built  very  close  together,  and  shared  in  the  same 
soil ;  and  still  they  had  found  it  for  their  good  to  erect  a  strong  and 
lofty  wall  between  them. 

Egino  went  along  this  wall.  Since  the  garden  was  entirely  clear 
of  men,  — for  the  monks  betook  themselves  after  their  evening  meal 
immediately  to  rest,  that  they  might  be  able  in  the  night  to  apply 
themselves  to  their  choral  service,  — he  could  carry  on  his  investiga- 
tions undisturbed.  The  wall  was  everywhere  preserved  in  good  con- 
dition ;  it  presented  nowhere  a  hole,  a  projection,  or  any  assistance 
for  a  man  who  might  have  the  wish  to  be  able,  in  case  of  necessity, 
to  scale  the  wall. 

In  a  smooth  right-angle  it  joined  on  to  the  powerful,  battlement- 
finished  and  tower-defended  wall  which  crowned  the  rock-wall  of  the 
Aventine,  falling  precipitously  hence  to  the  Marmorata,  and  protect- 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  105 

ing  on  this  side  as  well  the  grounds  of  the  castle  as  those  of  the 
cloister. 

On  this  corner  stood  no  tree  upon  which  to  ascend.  One  would 
be  obliged  to  have  wings. 

Rather  discouraged,  Egino  went  from  the  wall  back  to  the  middle 
of  the  garden,  where,  in  the  intersection  of  the  two  chief  walks, 
stood  a  great  antique  basin,  borne  upon  a  no  less  antique  Corinthian 
capital  of  weather-beaten  white  marble.  He  seated  himself  upon  the 
rim  of  this  basin  ;  folding  his  arms,  he  gazed  upon  the  heavy,  mass- 
ive walls  of  the  castle. 

The  latter  presented  to  him  upon  this  side  two  portions  of  the 
building, —  an  older  one  with  small,  unevenly  disposed  windows,  and 
a  higher,  newer  portion  with  symmetrical  rows  of  windows.  Both 
parts  were  flanked  with  quadrangular  towers,  and  in  the  middle, 
where  they  were  united,  was  placed  a  semi-circular,  stair-cased 
tower.  The  newer  part  of  the  building,  which  was  more  distant 
from  Egino's  standpoint,  had  high  up,  running  along  a  row  of  win- 
dows, a  balcony  lying,  perhaps,  above  an  arcade,  which  the  wall 
separating  the  garden  of  the  cloister  from  that  of  the  castle  hid  from 
view.  The  shutters  of  one  of  the  window-openings  leading  upon  this 
balcony  stood  open  ;  a  gleam  of  light  just  now  kindled  forced  itself 
through  this  opening  into  the  darkening  night,  and  illuminated  a 
portion  of  the  balcony  with  its  feeble  glow. 

When  Egino  had  stared  at  this  awhile,  there  occurred  what  he,  in 
palpitating  suspense,  had  been  longing  for,  expecting,  and  had  al- 
ready forseen  as  if  in  a  dream. 

A  female  form  clad  in  dark  robes  stepped  upon  the  sill  of  the  win- 
dow ;  looked  a  moment  upon  the  evening  dusk,  which  might  already 
be  called  night  —  a  moment,  but  long  enough  for  Egino  to  recognize, 
or,  better  (for  positive  recognition  it  was  much  too  far  away,  much  to 
dark),  for  him  through  a  sixth  sense  to  feel,  what  he,  rising  and 
pressing  his  hand  upon  his  wildly  beating  heart,  whispered  :  — 

"It  is  she!" 

She  stepped  out  upon  the  balcony,  and  began  to  move  slowly  up 
and  down. 

Egino's  soul  was  in  his  eyes ;  as  if  it  had  been  possible  that  his 
breathing  could  betray  him,  he  suppressed  it,  while  he  sharpened  his 
glance  to  perceive  every  movement  of  this  dark  form,  which,  as  a 
ghost  of  the  night,  moving  back  and  forth  high  above,  swayed  along 
the  gloomy  stronghold  of  the  Savelli. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE    EXERCISE-MASTER. 

GINO  may  have  sat  thus  a  good  while  upon  the  old  foun- 
tain-basin and  stared  through  the  darkness,  when  he 
heard  a  noise  behind  him.  He  turned  suddenly  around, 
and  saw  a  white  monkish  form  arise  bright  from  the  dark, 
neighboring  hedge  ;  it  now  came  nearer  him,  and  the  voice  which 
addressed  Egino  was  that  of  Father  Eustachius. 

Was  it  not  strange  that  the  silent  father  was  not  where  all  the 
other  monks  were  at  this  hour  ?  Did  he  absent  himself  from  sleep 
merely  to  watch- over  those  placed  in  his  spiritual  care  ? 

So  it  almost  appeared. 

"You  are  meditating,  young  sir?"  he  asked,  in  a  dry,  sharp 
voice. 

Egino,  with  his  whole  soul,  wished  him  a  thousand  miles  away, 
but  he  could  not  do  otherwise  than  turn  himself  away  from  the 
object  which  had  held  him  enchained,  and  forcing  himself  to  an  un- 
embarrassed answer,  he  said  :  — 

"  I  take  pleasure  in  the  mild,  soft  night  air  ;  in  the  deep,  dark 
vault  of  heaven,  with  its  clear  lights ;  and  in  the  refreshing  fragrance 
extracted  by  the  falling  dew  from  the  laurel  hedge." 

"And  that,"  responded  Father  Eustachius,  turning  while  he 
spoke,  and  thus  forcing  Egino  to  follow  him  down  the  walk,  "that  dis- 
poses the  soul  to  earnestness,  and  may  be  a  good  preparation  for  the 
work  which  you  will  begin  here  to-morrow." 

"  So  it  is,"  rejoined  Egino,  who  thought  so  little  about  this  work 
and  took  it  so  lightly,  and  now  said  to  himself,  with  some  anxiety, 
that  this  Father  Eustachius  might  be  just  the  man  to  make  it  very 
difficult  for  him. 

"  You  have  given  yourself  up  to  your  exercises  in  our  cloister, 
Count  Egino,"  continued  the  monk,  "with  fixed  grounds  which 
caused  you  to  prefer  it  to  any  other  cloister  ? " 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  107 

"  Certainly,  certainly ;  I  had  the  most  definite  grounds." 

"That  speaks  for  the  keenness  of  your  judgment,  and  for  the  full 
earnestness  with  which  you  are  striving  for  the  salvation  of  your 
soul, —  for  the  deep  earnestness  of  your  intentions,"  said  Eustachius. 
"For  you  know  the  spirit  which  prevails  among  the  sons  of 
Dominicus  is  as  earnest  as  the  grave.  The  other  orders  have  well 
comprehended  that  humanity  wanders  in  darkness,  and  must  wander 
painfully  till  the  coming  day.  They  assist  the  wanderers  and  lead 
them.  Ours,  however,  has  received  it  as  their  special  gift  to  seek 
out  in  the  night  those  wandering  in  their  darkness,  and  lead  them 
back  to  the  right  way ;  friendly  and  gentle  toward  those  who  follow, 
severe  and  inexorable  toward  those  who  obstinately  call  the  path  of 
error  the  right  road  —  and  this  office  is  an  earnest  .one." 

"As  every  penal  office  must  be!" 

"  As  every  penal  office,  yes,  where  mildness  becomes  sin,  and  kind- 
ness remissness  of  duty." 

"And  no  one  will  reproach  the  sons  of  Guzman  with  such  sin  and 
remissness  of  duty,"  Egino  could  not  refrain  from  saying,  with  a 
sharp  tone  of  reproof. 

"No,"  responded  Father  Eustachius,  overhearing  the  irony  of  this 
remark;  "whoever  knows  the  history  of  our  order  will  not.  Every 
association,  even  the  Christian,  needs  sacrificing  men,  whose  self- 
denial  goes  so  far  that  they  eradicate  from  themselves  one  of  the 
most  deeply  rooted  feelings  of  unregenerated  human  nature,  com- 
passion for  and  sympathy  with  the  contemporary  creature,  and  put 
in  its  place  in  the  heart  a  thought  unyielding  and  inexorable, —  the 
thought  of  the  law  that  mankind  should  walk  toward  God  upon  the 
one  tvay,  and  that  sword  and  fire  should  punish  them  if  they  wan- 
der from  this  way." 

"  And  the  sons  of  Saint  Dominicus  are  evidently  now  the  bearers 
of  the  sword  and  fire  !  " 

"So  it  is,"  said  the  monk;  "that  is  our  calling;  therefore  is  our 
order  established  as  the  'Militia  Jesu  Christi  contra  Hcsreticos?  To 
it  the.  Inquisition  is  intrusted,  and  its  judicial  authority  stretches  out 
over  the  world  —  over  the  high  and  the  low,  over  the  lay  brother  and 
the  bishop,  over  the  bondman  and  the  prince " 

"I  know,"  interposed  Egino,  fast  becoming  wrought  up;  "and  the 
order  has  gloriously  justified  the  confidence  placed  in  it  by  the 
church,  in  handing  over  to  it  the  office  of  judging  the  conscience.  It 
has  had  chains,  dungeons,  woodpiles,  and  tortures  of  all  kinds  for 


1 08  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

the  —  erring;  and  in  the  great  Albigensian  wars,  has  been  obliged  to 
exterminate  tenfold  more  of  the  unfortunate  than  there  were  even 
of  the  Christian  martyrs  slain  by  the  followers  of  the  heathen  emper- 
ors. One  might  almost  come  upon  the  thought  whether  to  the  gen- 
tle, love-preaching  Christ  such  a  worship,  with  more  human  sacrifices 
than  all  the  heathen  themselves  have  slaughtered,  could  then  be  well 
pleasing.  But  the  church  teaches  it,  and  the  church  must  know 
it " 

Father  Eustachius  nodded  the  head. 

"  So  it  is,"  said  he,  dryly;  "we  have  had  to  bring  into  use  various 
implements  of  punishment  for  the  stiffnecked  and  obdurate;  and  to 
the  fact  that  we  did  it,  many  peoples,  the  Spanish,  the  French,  above 
all,  also,  the  Italians,  owe  the  high  enjoyment  of  their  faith.  You 
know  our  order.  You  know  it,  you  say.  You  chose  it  with  fore- 
thought  " 

"So  I  did." 

"And  you  will  remain  true  to  your  decision  ?" 

"  Certainly  ;  why  shouldn't  I  ? " 

Father  Eustachius  did  not  answer ;  he  walked  in  silence  by  Egino. 
Then,  as  if  arousing  himself  from  thought,  he  said  :  — 

"  Will  you  still  remain  in  the  garden  ?  I  advise  you  not  ;  the  air 
here  on  the  Aventine  at  night,  or  even  in  the  day,  is  not  very  salu- 
brious; therefore  you  will  do  well  to  be  careful  of  yourself,  Count 
Egino.  Will  you  still  remain  ?  " 

They  were  at  the  end  of  the  walk,  and  had  reached  the  flight  of 
steps  leading  up  to  the  higher-lying  terrace.  The  monk  spoke  his 
last  words  with  a  peculiar  intonation,  while  he  placed  his  foot  upon 
the  steps. 

"  I  should  like  to  remain  awhile  longer  in  the  garden  before  I  be- 
take myself  to  rest,  worthy  Father,"  Egino  answered,  quietly. 

"Then  good-night,  Count  Egino.  When  I  see  you  to-morrow,  I 
will  speak  with  you  about  the  general  confession  you  have  to  make 
to  me.  Blessed  be  Jesus  Christ !  " 

Father  Eustachius  went  up  over  the  steps,  diagonally  over  the 
terrace,  and  disappeared  in  the  cloister. 

Egino  looked  after  him  a  little  wonderingly.  What  had  the  monk 
wished  ?  Had  he  been  spying  out  his  steps,  or  had  he  really  wished 
to  warn  him,  to  threaten  him  ?  Was  there  not  in  his  speech  some- 
thing like  a  hint  not  to  jest  with  his  order,  as  solemn  as  the  grave  ? 
Had  he  upon  Egino's  brow  read  his  thoughts,  and  discovered  that 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  109 

very  many  among  them  were  such  that  Father  Eustachius,  out  of 
human  interest  in  him,  did  not  wish  by  the  opportunity  of  a  general 
confession  to  need  to  enter  into  an  explanation  with  him  ? 

Had  he  really  penetrated  his  intention  ? 

No  ;  that  was  not  possible  ! 

And  in  regard  to  the  other  matter  Egino  did  not  trouble  himself 
much.  He  hastened  back  to  his  former  position,  to  the  stone  basin. 
The  form,  however,  upon  the  balcony  of  the  Savelli  Castle  had  dis- 
appeared ;  the  light  was  extinguished. 

Early  next  morning  Egino  was  awakened  by  Brother  Alessio,  who 
said  to  him  that  it  was  time  to  take  part  in  the  early  divine  service 
of  the  monks  in  the  church  of  Santa  Sabina.  It  was  still  so  early 
Egino  followed  the  brother  rather  unwillingly,  and  had  himself  shown 
to  a  place  in  the  church  in  one  corner  of  the  choir  of  the  monks. 

After  the  service  the  early  meal  was  partaken  of  in  the  refectory, 
and,  still  more  frugal  than  the  night  meal,  it  consisted  of  milk  and 
bread.  Then,  when  Egino  had  scarcely  returned  to  his  chamber, 
Father  Eustachius  appeared. 

Father  Eustachius  had  entered  silently,  and  silently  took  the  chair 
which  Egino  carried  forth.  He  gazed  awhile  at  the  floor,  then  sud- 
denly, sharply  fixing  upon  him  his  dark,  fiery  eyes,  he  said :  — 

"  You  know  that  the  exercises  begin  with  a  general  confession, 
which  has  to  extend  over  your  whole  life,  from  the  moment  where, 
with  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  your  moral  accountability 
began.  You  can  so  arrange  the  preparation  for  this  confession  that 
you  may  divide  into  periods  the  life  lying  behind  you,  and  seek  to 
give  yourself  an  account  of  your  actions  in  each  single  instance ;  or 
you  may  fix  your  whole  life  at  once  in  the  eye,  and  seek  to  bring 
yourself  to  a  knowledge  of  what  runs  through  it,  as  the  principal 
trait  of  weakness  or  sinfulness,  and  is  the  common  cause  of  the 
single  instances  wherein  you  have  sinned.  If  you  choose  the  first,  I 
will  trouble  myself  out  of  the  individual  instances  to  lead  you  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  prevailing  weakness  of  character  which  rules  you  ; 
if  you  choose  the  other,  it  will  be  my  task  from  the  ground-failure 
to  proceed  to  the  separate  facts,  which  are  like  the  separate  waves 
pouring  themselves  out  of  the  fountain  of  your  weakness." 

"  And  how  do  most  persons  proceed  ? "  said  Egino,  hesitating,  and 
struggling  against  entering  upon  a  theme  that  at  this  moment  lay 
so  far  from  him,  and  from  which,  with  a  Father  Eustachius,  at  least 
there  was  no  escape. 


i io  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

• 

"The  most  persons?  Most  men  esteem  themselves  gold,  upon 
which  lie  only  a  few  spots  of  rust,  to  be  washed  away  from  them  by 
the  holy  water  of  the  church.  They  consider  themselves  the  victims 
of  temptation  approaching  them  from  without.  They  think  their 
fall  is  due  to  the  stone  upon  their  way,  over  which  want  of  fore- 
thought causes  them  to  stumble.  And  still  they  are  not  gold,  but 
dross  through  and  through.  And  still  temptation  does  not  approach 
them  from  without,  but  the  vice  in  them  leads  them  into  the  tempta- 
tion ;  and  still  the  road  is  not  to  blame  that  they  fall,  but  the  weak- 
ness of  the  feet  upon  which  their  virtue  stands.  So  most  of  them 
complain  of  the  separate  instance,  and  it  is  the  task  of  the  spiritual 
father  to  show  them  that  the  individual  sin  is  without  significance  ; 
that  the  worst  robbery,  murder,  treachery,  can  be  pardoned  by  the 
mercy  of  God,  but  not  the  foulness  of  soul  rankling  in  them.  Men 
are  all  endowed  with  capacities,  as  plants  with  boughs,  branches,  and 
leaves.  But  only  in  a  part  of  the  top  which  such  a  human  tree  car- 
ries, living  juice  pours  itself  and  life  pulses ;  another  part  stands 
arid,  dried  up,  leafless,  juiceless.  The  branch  of  courage,  of  will- 
power, the  branch  of  unselfishness,  in  one  stands  green  and  full  of 
foliage  ;  but  the  branch  of  chastity,  the  branch  of  fidelity,  the  branch 
of  goodness  of  heart  and  of  humility,  stands  dry  and  dead.  With  an- 
other the  branches  of  kindness,  of  brotherly  love,  of  gentleness,  are 
green ;  but  the  branches  of  self-control,  of  faith-power,  of  devotion, 
stand  dry.  Now,  the  father  confessor  must  be  the  gardener  of  the 
human  plant,  and  he  has  to  bring  even  into  the  dry  branches  life. 
Still,  say  how  you  will  proceed." 

"  So  let  us  look  after  my  dry  branches  at  once,  worthy  Father," 
answered  Egino,  smiling,  for  in  him  the  deep  earnestness  with  which 
the  gloomy  Spanish  monk  spoke  began  to  inspire  a  certain  confidence. 

"Not  at  once,"  interposed  Father  Eustachius;  "you  need  time  in 
order  to  collect  yourself,  to  enter  within  yourself,  and  to  make  clear 
to  yourself  what  branches  in  you  are  dry.  And  when  you  reflect 
upon  it,  do  not  let  one  escape  you ;  that  is,  on  the  human  plant  the 
branches  mostly  grow  in  pairs,  grown  upon  one  bough,  standing 
together.  And  when  you  find  one  of  these  twin  branches  dry  in  you, 
then  ask  yourself  whether  at  least  the  other  is  green.  If  your  good- 
ness is  dry,  so,  at  least,  must  your  justice  be  green  ;  if  your  faith  is 
dry,  your  love,  at  least,  must  be  green  ;  and  if  your  self-restraint  and 
chastity  are  dry,  your  mildness  and  brotherly  love,  at  least,  must  be ' 
green.  Thoroughly  bad  natures  are  those  in  which  both  twin 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  in 

branches  are  dead ;  and  entirely  miserable  are  those  natures  which 
have  nothing  of  the  virtues  of  their  faults  and  nothing  of  the  faults 
of  their  virtues.  The  weakness  which  is  not  good,  but  evil ;  the 
cruelty  which  is  not  courageous  and  strong  willed,  but  cowardly ; 
the  rudeness  which  is  not  honorable,  but  a  deceiver;  the  haughtiness 
and  imperiousness  which  are  not  generous,  but  a  miser, —  such  are 
the  wholly  bad  !  Such  is  the  dry  wood  with  which  Satan  makes  his 
hell  hot.  Hell  is  not  there  on  their  account,  — that  would  be  too  much 
honor  for  them ;  but  they  are  there  to  serve  as  logs  for  the  nourish- 
ment of  the  eternal  fire." 

"  And  for  whom  is  the  eternal  fire  ? " 

"  For  the  ungodly  who  commit  great  transgressions,  and  scorn  the 
means  of  the  church  to  receive  pardon  again." 

Over  Egino's  face  flitted  a  proud  smile. 

"  We  are  all  the  children  of  God,  worthy  Father,"  said  he,  with  a 
bitter,  ironical  tone.  "And  since  we  need  continual  guardianship,. 
God  has  delivered  us  over  to  his  church  as  our  careful  foster-mother,, 
who  takes- upon  herself  our  everlasting  pupilage.  Is  that  so,  worthy 
Father  ?  " 

"That  is  so." 

"Well,  then,  ' Sunt pueri,  pneripuerilia  tractant.'  How  is  it  to  be 
explained  that  God  could  conceive  the  horrible  thought  of  making 
an  eternal,  endless  punishment  in  hell,  lasting  through  eternity,  for 
something  that  his  children,  in  their  stupid,  childish  ignorance,  have 
committed  ?  If  we  were  not  children,  it  would,  indeed,  be  otherwise.. 
Had  God  treated  us  with  the  confidence  that  the  father  has  in  his 
grown-up,  mature,  reasonable  son ;  had  he  opened  our  eyes  to  his 
design  in  this  endless  universe ;  had  he  communicated  to  us  openly 
the  mysteries  of  the  world,  and  disclosed  to  us  the  secrets  of  his 
being  which  tormentingly  surround  us,  iastead  of  hiding  everything 
from  us  as  children  and  leaving  us  in  the  dark,  —  then  would  he  be 
right  to  require  of  us  so  strenuously  that  we  now  behave  ourselves 
as  reflecting  men,  and,  through  our  actions,  not  disturb  the  harmony 
of  the  moral  order  of  the  world.  Since,  however,  he  treats  us  as 
children  under  age,  how  can  he  wonder  if  we  for  our  actions,  as 
minors,  refuse  accountability,  and  find  the  eternal  hell-punishment 
very  unjust  and  quite  horribly  cruel  ?" 

"  How  can  you  talk  so,  since  God  in  revelation  has  disclosed  all 
his  mysteries  ? "  exclaimed  the  monk.  "  Are  those  the  thoughts 
with  which  you  have  prepared  yourself  for  your  confession  ?  " 


ii2  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  Your  speech  awakened  these  thoughts.  If  it  is  sinful,  make  me 
see  it." 

The  features  of  the  monk  grew  dark.  "I  will  do  it,"  he  said. 
"Previously,  however,  answer  me  a  question  —  in  case  you  are  pre- 
pared to  answer  it  at  once,"  he  added,  with  sharp,  almost  disdainfully 
ringing  tone,  at  the  same  time  rising  and  going  to  close  the  open 
window.  Then  he  further  spoke  :  — 

"  This  is  the  question  :  Why  have  you  come  into  this  cloister, 
Count  Egino  ? " 

"  Does  it  require  a  preparation  to  answer  this  question  ?  " 

"  It  seems  so,  since  you  do  not  know  how  to  answer  it,  because 
you  have  learned  it  is  a  deadly  sin  to  lie  in  confession." 

"  I  do  not  lie,  either  in  or  out  of  confession,"  said  Egino,  proudly. 

"Then  answer  the  truth." 

"That  I  came  —  you  will  at  least  maintain  it  —  was  yet  no  sin, 
and  there  need  be  nothing  said  about  it  in  my  confession." 

"  And  suppose  I  say  to  you,  Count  Egino,  that  your  coming  was 
a  sin." 

"  So  I  deny  it " 

"  Do  not  deny  it;  you  alter  nothing  thereby.  You  did  not  come 
for  the  sake  of  our  exercises  !  They  are  a  pretext.  There  is  an- 
other aim  which  leads  you  here, —  an  aim  which  you  pursue  obsti- 
nately, for  I  find  you  here  in  spite  of  the  warnings  which  I  presented 
to  you  yesterday,  and  which  you  must  have  understood.  Now 
speak  —  you  are  speaking  to  your  father  confessor." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you  in  regard  to  it,"  responded  Egino, 
"but  that  you  err  when  you  see  something  in  my  coming  which 
resembles  a  sin,  and  therefore  belongs  to  the  confessional " 

"And  I  tell  you,"  interposed  Father  Eustachius,  almost  threaten- 
ingly, "man  is  sinful  through  and  through,  and  your  every  work, 
your  every  word,  your  every  thought,  belongs  to  the  ear  of  him 
who  can  free  you  from  sin.  Therefore  speak,  to  what  end  you  came, 
and  what  part  in  it  has  the  woman  whom  you  led  into  this  cloister  — 
that  disguised  woman  that  you  called  your  page,  and  who,  since  she 
passed  over  the  consecrated  threshold  of  this  house  of  God,  this 
cloister,  incurred  the  fullness  of  eternal  punishment  ?  " 

"You  have  a  sharp  eye,  Father  Eustachius,"  replied  Egino,  in 
surprise. 

"  I  have ;  and  this  sharp  eye  has  rested  upon  you  more  attentively 
than  you  were  aware." 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  113 

"  It  appears  so,"  said  Egino,  feeling  with  angry  smart  that  his 
plan  was  upon  the  point  of  being  miserably  thwarted,  and  that 
this  interview  must  end  for  him  in  an  ignominious  expulsion 
from  the  cloister.  And  against  such  a  disgrace,  against  the 
abandonment  of  the  hope  with  which  he  had  come,  all  that  was 
in  him  rebelled.  All  his  daring  became  aroused. 

Should  he  fear  this  monk  ?  Why  should  he  ?  Had  not  they  even, 
in  the  end,  to  fear  him  ?  He  proudly  threw  back  his  head,  and, 
suddenly  composed,  said  with  firm  and  resolute  voice  :  — 

"Well  then,  since  I  see  no  one  can  escape  you,  I  will  answer  your 
question  as  to  what  impelled  me  to  come  to  the  sons  of  the  holy 
Dominicus.  Understand,  then,  there  lies  upon  me  a  sin,  and  it  is 
such  that  I,  in  my  worldly  surroundings,  might  repent  and  atone 
for  a  long  time." 

"And  this  sin,  for  whose  repentence  you  need  a  disguised 
maiden  —  what  is  it?" 

"The  disguised  maiden  is  more  harmless  than  you  think,  Father 
Eustachius  —  but  we  will  leave  her  out  of  the  game.  She  shall  not 
appear  again,  since  you  live  in  the  remarkable  belief  that  if  a  female 
being,  let  her  be  so  innocent  as  St.  Peter's  daughter,  Petronella,  and 
so  pious  as  St.  Augustine's  mother,  Monica,  steps  over  your  thresh- 
old, her  pure  breath  renders  foul  the  atmosphere  of  your  musty 
cloister  passages.  My  sin  is  the  following.  We  Counts  of  Orten- 
burg  are  three,  —  or  there  were  three  of  us :  my  eldest  brother, 
Bruno,  the  lord  and  heir;  my  second  brother,  Udo;  and  myself,  the 
youngest,  — like  Udo,  on  account  of  being  a  younger  son,  shut  out 
from  the  ancestral  heritage.  I  was  set  apart  to  the  service  of  the 
emperor ;  for  Udo,  provision  was  to  be  made  by  a  marriage  with 
a  relative,  whose  guardian  was  my  deceased  father,  and  whose 
inheritance  was  adjoining  our  own.  But  my  brother  Udo  was  a 
wild,  rough  fellow.  Ulrica,  the  relative,  did  not  love  him,  and 
stubbornly  refused  to  give  him  her  hand.  For  this  she  was  tor- 
mented by  us,  vexed  and  harassed  in  every  way :  we  held  her  im- 
prisoned ;  we  devised  every  means  to  break  what  we  called  her 
obstinacy,  for  we  were  determined  her  rich  inheritance  should  never 
escape  us.  Then  suddenly  fell  a  decisive  blow  upon  this  state  of 
things  —  my  brother  Udo  died.  A  chronic  illness  carried  him  sud- 
denly away,  before  we  had  been  able  to  wed  him  to  Ulrica ;  and  the 
estate  of  the  latter,  which  we  had  long  considered  our  own,  had  also 
in  part  alienated  and  used  up " 


114  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  It  must  not  be  allowed  to  fall  into  other  hands  by  the  marriage 
of  your  relative,  Ulrica,  to  another  man,"  broke  in  the  monk,  with  a 
scornful  pucker  about  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  "and,  therefore, 
there  remained  nothing  but  to  wed  the  relative  by  force  to  the  dead, 
whose  death  you  kept  secret.  After  some  days  the  death  was 
published ;  the  relative  was  now  your  brother  Udo's  widow ;  as  his 
widow  she  remained  in  the  power  of  the  head  of  your  family  ;  and 
you,  you  Count  von  Ortenburg,  will  see  who  can  tear  her  estate  out 
of  your  hands  !  " 

"  By  God,  so  it  was  !  "  exclaimed  Egino,  astonished  at  the  monk's 
ready  comprehension,  but  determined  to  throw  him  the  guantlet 
completely.  "  Yes,  we  forced  the  woman  ;  we  found  a  monk,  a  monk 
of  your  order,  Father  Eustachius,  who  let  himself  be  bribed,  and 
wedded  her  to  the  dead.  To  atone  for  my 'part  in  this  outrage,  in 
this  deed  of  violence  which  cries  to  Heaven,  I  come  to  you.  I  come 
also  to  receive  counsel  from  you,  whether  I  shall  expose  to  the  Pope 
the  execrable  monk  who  lent  himself  to  this  purpose,  or  whether  I, 
for  sake  of  the  calling  of  the  order,  of  the  monstrous  scandal  it  would 
give  to  the  world,  which  from  day  to  day  becomes  more  hostile  to 
you,  and  without  that  knows  so  well  how  to  slander  you,  must  let  it 
alone." 

Father  Eustachius  had  looked  daggers  at  Egino  while  he  was 
speaking ;  upon  his  sallow  face  had  momentarily  flamed  out  a  flush 
as  of  white-hot  anger,  which  then  again  disappeared.  Father  Eusta- 
chius evidently  possessed  remarkable  control  over  himself,  for  with 
the  most  quiet  voice  he  now  said  :  — 

"  If  so  unusual  an  action,  and  one  so  hard  to  comprehend  in  all  its 
circumstances,  disquiets  and  oppresses  you,  you  indeed  did  well  to 
come  here.  I  hope  you  will  reach  your  aim,  and  that  fully  quieted 
in  your  soul  and  in  your  conscience  you  will  leave  these  walls.  In 
the  next  place,  however,  I  must  say  to  you,  that  you  need  ask  no 
advice  of  me  whether  or  not  you  may  be  bound  in  conscience  to 
expose  that  corrupted  monk  to  his  superiors ;  for  since  he  is,  as  you 
assert,  of  my  order,  I  cannot  be  impartial  in  this  affair.  Another 
shall  advise  you  in  this." 

"  Another  ?  And  who  ?  Do  you  consider  the  matter  so  lightly 
that  still  another,  a  third,  may  learn  of  this  hideous  crime  of  the 
brother  of  your  order  ?  " 

"  Hideous  crime  !  Be  not  so  hasty  with  your  words,  Count  Egino. 
The  other  person  who  shall  advise  you  knows  without  telling  that  of 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  115 

which  you  speak  ;  is  fully  in  the  secret ;  is,  indeed,  the  one  most 
concerned,  —  it  is  the  wedded  kinswoman  herself." 

"  What  do  you  say  ? " 

"The  widow  of  the  dead  —  she  is  truly  near  enough  to  us  !  " 

"  It  is  she  —  and  she " 

"She  shall  advise  you.     You  shall  see  her,  and  ask  her." 

"  I  shall  see  her —  speak  to  her  ?  You  will  bring  that  about  ?  "  ex- 
claimed Egino,  with  an  agitation  which  would  not  have  escaped 
Father  Eustachius,  even  if  Egino  had  striven  to  conceal  it  much 
more  than  he  thought  he  was  doing. 

"  You  will  accompany  me  to  her,"  replied  the  monk,  fixing  his 
eyes  upon  him  sharply,  quietly,  and  for  a  very  long  time. 

"And  when  shall  this  happen  ?" 

"That  shall  the  signora  decide.  I  will  send  to  her  to  have  her 
consulted,  or  go  to  her  myself." 

Egino,  beside  himself  with  excitement,  walked  up  and  down  in  his 
cell.  Father  Eustachius  followed  him  with  the  little,  deep-set  eyes 
in  which  still  something  feeble,  faint,  indicated  that  he  was  now  busy 
in  thought  with  something  other  than  the  behavior  of  the  young 
man. 

"What  can  be  settled  quietly  and  peacefully,"  said  he  finally, 
rising,  "one  should  not  settle  in  anger.  And  this  business,  for  whose 
sake  I  see  you  are  here,  not  as  a  penitent,  but  defiantly  and  for  the 
sake  of  a  quarrel,  can,  I  think,  be  settled  peacefully  to  your  satisfac- 
tion, to  the  justification  of  the  poor  monk  whom  you  accuse  and 
whom  you  are  ready  to  prosecute.  I  wish  well,  not  only  to  that  poor 
monk,  as  my  order-brother,  but  also  to  you,  Count  Egino,  believe 
me.  With  this  well-wishing  I  spoke  to  you  yesterday,  when  I  gave 
you  the  hint  you  had  better  leave  our  cloister.  And  with  the  same 
good  will  for  you,  I  take  the  course  of  mildness  in  this  affair,  how- 
ever defiantly  you  have  conducted  yourself,  however  imperiously  you 
have  acted.  I  leave  you  alone  till  I  return  to  conduct  you  to  the 
woman,  who  —  will  counsel  you." 

Father  Eustachius  departed. 


VOLUME  II. 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  EMPERORS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

CORRADINA. 

c.  —  5>enumm,  3d)  bin  au§  £antalu«  ®efd)Ied)te. 
S)u  ftmdjft  cin  grofceS  SBovt  gefaffeu  cuts. 

—  GOETHE. 

GINO  awaited  the  return  of  the  monk.  Whether  the  time 
was  long  or  short,  he  scarcely  knew.  The  time  was  for 
him  as  a  whirlpool, —  a  storm, —  a  wild  flood,  in  which  he 
was  overwhelmed ;  they  were  moments  of  fearful  agita- 
tion. Finally  the  door  of  the  cell  again  opened,  and  Father 
Eustachius  stepped  upon  the  threshold.  He  remained  standing, 
and  beckoned  with  his  hands. 

"  Follow  me,  Count  Egino,"  he  said. 

Egino  snatched  his  dagger  and  gloves,  then  his  cap ;  he  was  still 
carrying  them  in  his  hands  when  he  was  already  outside  on  the  way 
in  the  garden.  Here  Father  Eustachius  passed  over  the  terrace  to 
the  door  in  the  wall  which  united  the  cloister-garden  with  that  of  the 
Savelli,  lying  on  the  other  side.  It  stood  only  latched.  On  the  other 
side  presented  itself  the  garden  of  the  castle  —  not  very  different 
from  that  of  the  monks,  not  even  in  size.  Pope  Honorius  seemed  to 
have  shared  fraternally  with  his  friend  Dominicus.  Only  the  terrace 
was  more  imposing,  more  elevated ;  it  did  not  run  along  the  whole 
garden-front  of  the  castle ;  it  ended  at  the  semi-circular  tower,  in 
which  a  door  standing  open  revealed  a  stairway  leading  above. 

Eustachius  led  his  companion  over  the  terrace  into  this  door,  up 
the  winding-stair  to  the  first  landing ;  from  this  another  door  led  to 
the  great  balcony,  upon  which  Egino,  on  the  previous  evening,  had 
seen  the  dark  form  pacing  back  and  forth.  They  stepped  upon  this 
balcony  ;  there  stood  upon  it,  not  far  from  the  window-casement 
which  led  into  the  interior  of  the  chambers,  a  little  table  with  a  foot- 
stool near  it.  Upon  the  table  lay  a  book,  with  some  lady's  work 
upon  it ;  upon  the  footstool  lay  a  light  cloth  ;  the  occupant  of  the 


120  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

adjoining  rooms  must  have  passed  a  part  of  the  morning  there. 
Coming  near  the  open  window,  the  exercise-master  suddenly  re- 
strained his  step ;  he  made  a  bow  full  of  monkish  humility,  and 
pointing  to  Egino,  he  said  :  — 

"The  young  German  lord,  Madame,  to  whom  I  begged  you  to 
grant  an  interview." 

Within  the  next  room,  scarcely  a  step  behind  the  open  window- 
casement,  stood  the  Countess  Corradina  von  Anticoli. 

She  threw  upon  Egino  a  searching,  hasty  glance,  and  without 
returning  his  bow,  turned  and  stepped  farther  back  into  the  interior 
of  the  room. 

"Only  follow  in,  and  —  hold  your  consultation!"  said  Father 
Eustachius,  with  a  somewhat  disdainful  smile. 

Then  he  turned  to  the  little  table,  and  seated  himself  upon  the 
footstool  behind  it. 

The  slightly  haughty  reception  and  Father  Eustachius'  mocking 
smile  were  for  Egino  in  this  moment  something  almost  welcome. 
They  made  it  easier  to  him  to  master  his  emotion ;  he  stepped  over 
the  threshold  with  the  firm  step  of  a  man  who  is  conscious  that  he 
comes  with  a  definite  purpose.  In  the  middle  of  the  moderately 
large  room,  which,  with  its  gold-imprinted  leathern  tapestry,  its  fine 
mats,  its  artistically  cut  and  ivory-adorned  furniture,  presented  all 
the  comfort  and  grace  of  a  lady's  chamber  of  the  time,  he  bowed 
profoundly  before  the  lady,  who  had  now  reached  the  end  of  the 
room  and  disposed  herself  upon  a  cushioned  seat,  and  turned  upon 
him  clear  and  full  her  countenance. 

It  was  the  same  wonderful  countenance,  full  of  beauty  and  dignity, 
which  Egino  had  seen  in  the  soft  twilight,  and  which  now,  illuminated 
by  the  bright  light  of  day,  exercised  upon  him  the  same,  and,  if  pos- 
sible, a  still  higher  charm.  Her  blue  eyes  under  the  long  blonde 
lashes  looked  upon  him  with  the  fully  self-conscious  transparency  of 
a  proud  woman,  and  still  with  an  expression  of  uncertain  curiosity, 
which  gave  to  her  the  girlishness  that  would,  perhaps,  have  otherwise 
been  wanting.  She  had  not  put  on  the  bandeatt, —  the  cap  which 
she  should  have  worn  as  a  widow  ;  at  least  her  gold-blonde  hair,  rich 
and  wavy,  parted  in  the  middle,  flowed  over  her  shoulders  just  as 
Egino  had  beheld  it  in  the  marriage  scene ;  only  a  narrow  fillet  of 
black  velvet  with  some  pearls  set  on  it  held  it  together  around  the 
temples.  Her  slender  form  was  enveloped  in  a  dress  of  light,  black 
material  brocaded  with  violet  velvet. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  121 

"You  call  yourself  Count  Egino  von  Ortenburg  ? "  began  the 
Countess  Corradina  von  Anticoli,  after  a  pause. 

Egino,  who  had  been  devouring  her  with  his  looks,  almost  forgot 
to  answer  "Yes,"  he  was  so  surprised  to  hear  these  words  addressed 
to  him  in  German  speech. 

"  And,"  she  continued,  "  I  recognize  you.  A  short  time  ago  you 
entered  this  house  as  a  young  jurist, —  as  the  law-pupil  of  Minucci  ?  " 

Egino  assented  with  a  slight  bow,  still  always  asking  himself 
whether  or  not  merely  in  a  dream  he  heard  these  German  sounds 
from  these  lips. 

"  Into  the  cloister  of  our  neighbors  you  have  introduced  yourself 
with  the  statement  that  you  there  wish  to  practice  the  exercises, — 
to  apply  yourself  to  the  penal-observances." 

"So  it  is,  noble  lady,"  responded  Egino,  sighing,  clasping  with 
his  left  hand  the  hilt  of  his  dagger,  while  he  held  his  right  pressed 
upon  his  heart.  "  I  came  into  this  house  by  the  side  of  a  lawyer, 
who  introduced  me  as  his  pupil.  He  named  me  so,  not  I ;  he  had 
grounds  which  caused  him  to  wish  my  company.  I  thus  became  a 
witness  to  the  matrimonial  alliance  (if  it  is  allowed  so  to  name  that 
which  happened)  which  you  entered  into.  And  that  which  I  saw, 
whose  witness  I  became,  left  to  me  neither  quiet  nor  rest  in  my 
soul ;  so  from  Signer  Minucci's  pupil  I  became  a  pupil  of  Father 
Eustachius,  till  I  now  stand  before  you  as  a  pupil,  not  prepared  be- 
forehand to  utter  that  which  lies  upon  my  heart ;  and  even  if  I  were, 
I  am  still  not  in  condition  to  speak  as  I  should  like  to  speak  in  your 
presence  —  Father  Eustachius  has  brought  me  here  so  unexpectedly, 
so  hastily ;  I  have  been  placed  before  you  so  suddenly,  quite  as  if  in 
a  dream " 

"Strange,"  she  said,  interrupting  him,  "that  a  German  prince 
should  appear  in  the  role  of  a  pupil ;  strange  that  he  disquiets  himself 
over  the  actions  of  a  monk,  a  stranger  to  him,  whose  actions  he 
does  not  understand  or  comprehend,  yet  allows  so  entirely  to  disturb 
him  that  he  thinks  he  must  prosecute  the  matter;  and  strange,  also, 
that  Father  Eustachius  desires  that  I  should  explain  this  monk's 
conduct  to  you " 

"Do  not  find  it  strange,  noble  lady.  Father  Eustachius  seems 
to  be  able  to  read  in  the  souls  of  men,  and  may  perceive  that  my 
soul  is  so  filled  by  this  affair  that  there  is  for  it  no  tranquillity  except 
through  you.  He  may  have  discovered  something  in  my  soul  with 
which  he  knows  it  is  not  good  to  contend,  but  better  to  yield  to  it." 


122  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

She  looked  at  him  inquiringly,  —  searchingly. 

"To  yield  ?  One  yields  to  children,"  said  Corradina,  then  proudly 
throwing  back  her  head. 

"  Do  I  then  impress  you  as  a  child  ?  "  asked  Egino,  no  less  proudly, 
and  lifting  himself  up  to  his  greatest  height. 

"  You,  indeed,  believe  you  make  the  impression  of  a  knight,  who 
nobly  takes  into  his  care  unprotected  women  and  punishes  deceit 
and  violence,"  said  she  with  a  tone  of  jesting,  which  had  in  it  some- 
thing mocking,  and  yet,  again,  friendly. 

"  You  may  be  so  accustomed  to  such  things  that  knights  seem  to 
you  as  children,"  responded  Egino,  who  therefore  took  courage  to 
answer  in  the  same  tone. 

"  That  is  a  more  polite  answer  than  was  to  be  expected  from  a 
pupil,  as  you  call  yourself,"  she  replied  with  a  smile.  "  I  see  you  are 
not  without  shrewdness,  and  this  will  say  to  you  that  you  now  hear 
enough  from  my  own  lips  in  order  to  become  satisfied  about  that 
which,  as  you  express  it,  leaves  neither  rest  nor  quiet  in  your  soul. 
Should  this  not  satisfy  you,  however,  Father  Eustachius  may  explain 
the  rest ;  I  give  to  him  the  permission  to  do  so." 

"  It  does  not  lie  in  the  power  of  an  Italian  monk  to  give  quiet  and 
rest  to  my  soul,",  responded  Egino.  "You  speak  German,  as  I  do. 
You  speak  to  me.  Do  not  send  me  away  after  so  few  words,  I  beg 
you.  You  may  know,  I  have  suffered  much  through  that  which  I 
experienced,  very  much  in  the  thought  of  you.  I  have  a  right  to  a 
little  kindness  on  your  part." 

Corradina  looked  upon  him  awhile  in  silence,  —  not  kindly  and 
benevolently,  and  yet  not  angrily,  but  as  if  with  an  expression 
of  astonishment. 

"Strange,"  she  said  then.  "You  must  perceive,  Count  Egino  von 
Ortenburg,  that  this  is  a  strange  scene.  A  foreigner,  whom  I 
do  not  know,  of  whom  I  only  know  he  appears  in  different  roles, 
stands  there  quite  unexpectedly  and  suddenly  before  me,  and  speaks 
to  me  of  a  right  to  my  confidence.  He  wishes  an  explanation,  —  an 
explanation  of  my  actions,  my  situation,  my  thoughts,  motives, — 
and  all  that  because  to  him  my  actions,  to  which  chance  made  him  a 
witness,  are  mysterious.  Do  you  not  yourself  feel,  my  German 
Count,  that  you,  you  to  whom  I  only  for  the  sake  of  Father 
Eustachius  allowed  entrance  to  this  chamber " 

"That  I  am  laughable  in  my  presumption,  you  would  say, 
Madame.  It  is  possible  I  appear  so  to  you.  And  still  you  are 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  123 

wrong.  That  I  appear  so  unexpectedly,  so  suddenly  before  you,  do 
not  charge  against  me.  That  which  comes  before  us  most  unex- 
pectedly, and  for  which  we  are  most  unprepared,  is  often  that  which 
takes  most  earnest  hold  upon  our  being.  What  would  life  be  if 
fate  did  not,  once  in  awhile,  as  if  with  a  holy  hail-storm,  seize  upon 
us  and  cast  us  into  a  new  road.  Such  a  sacred  hail-storm  is  it  when 
a  man  looks  upon  a  woman  by  whose  appearance  a  hot  flame 
and  a  great  light  falls  upon  his  soul,  —  a  light  that  shows  to  him 
he  has  in  himself  a  heart,  a  power,  a  will,  of  whose  force  he  was  not 
before  aware.  If  I  were  recommended  to  you  by  good  friends, 
placed  before  you  by  your  relatives ;  if  I  had  met  you  in  a  gay  circle 
of  associates  to  pay  to  you  my  devotions,  —  I  would  not,  with  my 
interest,  seem  laughable.  Now  since  I  am  a  stranger,  who  presses 
to  you  in  his  own  way,  I  appear  so.  Wherefore  ?  Believe  me, 
so  solemn  as  was  your  situation  when  they  wedded  you  to  a 
dead  man,  is  that  which  took  place  in  me  when  I  perceived  it :  that 
which  arose  in  me  and  has  mastered  me  since  that  moment,  believe 
me,  is  worthy  of  your  full  sympathy  !  " 

Egino  had  spoken  all  this  with  firm  precision,  and  almost  imperi- 
ously, his  face  crimsoning,  and  his  head  with  its  blonde  waving  locks 
thrown  back. 

The  Countess  had  looked  upon  him  as  if  more  busy  with  the  fine 
features  of  the  young  man  than  with  what  he  said  ;  she  now  answered 
with  a  tone  entirely  changed,  softly,  as  if  suddenly  submitting  to  the 
fact  that  she  must  discuss  the  matter  with  him. 

"Your  name  is  Count  Egino  von  Ortenburg ;  where  lies  your 
ancestral  house  ? " 

"In  Swabia." 

"  Swabia ! "  she  repeated  with  a  peculiar  tone,  as  if  with  a  sup- 
pressed sigh,  such  as  that  with  which  a  homesick  person  calls  the 
name  of  his  land. 

"How  long  have  you  been  in  Italy  ?  "  she  then  asked,  after  a  pause. 

"  In  Italy  for  years.     I  have  been  in  Bologna,  at  the  High  School." 

"And  in  Rome?" 

"  Weeks,  —  months." 

"  Was  Count  Eitelfriedrich  von  Ortenburg  your  forefather  ?  " 

"  He  was  the  ancestor  of  the  line  of  our  house  to  which  I  belong. 
What  do  you  know  of  him,  my  lady  ?  " 

"He  fought,"  she  replied,  deliberately,  "at  the  side  of  my  grand- 
sire,  Duke  Frederic  von  Antioch,  in  the  battle  of  Benevent." 


124  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  Your  grandsire  Frederic  von  Antioch  !  "  exclaimed  Egino. 
"Frederic  von  Antioch  was  son  of  Emperor  Frederic  II.,  brother 
to  King  Manfred,  to  King  Enzio  ;  he  was  your  grandsire  ? " 

"He  was.     He  was  King  Manfred's  younger  brother " 

"And  you,  — you  were  his  granddaughter,  his  blood  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  she  said  quietly.  "  Duke  Frederic's  son  was  Conrad  von 
Antioch  and  Alba,  and  first  Count  of  Anticoli.  Since  his  descendants 
were  always  called  Conrad,  or  in  the  Italian  idiom  Corrado,  Anticoli, 
their  seat,  is  called,  after  them,  Anticoli-Corrado,  and  I  am  also  called 
Corradina  after  my  father. 

"  And  therefore  you  bear  the  coat-of-arms  of  the  Buren  !  You  are 
in  a  direct  line  an  offspring  of  the  heroic  blood  of  the  Hohen- 
staufen ! " 

"  I  am  the  last,  the  only  remaining  one  of  the  race  of  the  Hohen- 
staufen,"  she  said. 

Egino  stared  at  her  still  a  few  seconds  as  if  caught  in  a  trance. 
Then  he  knelt  down  before  her  on  both  knees  ;  he  opened  his  lips, 
looking  upward  as  if  he  would  speak  to  her ;  stooped  to  kiss  the  hem 
of  her  dress ;  and  when  he  again  looked  up  at  her,  Corradina  saw 
that  tears  were  streaming  over  his  face. 

She  looked  with  her  great  eyes  calmly,  almost  absent-mindedly 
into  his ;  then  there  came  into  hers  a  moist  glance.  She  slowly 
brought  her  face  nearer  his  own  with  an  expression  of  infinite 
mildness  and  submissiveness,  which  suddenly  and  wonderfully  illumi- 
nated her  face ;  she  lifted  her  hand  and  laid  it  upon  Egino's  head, 
and  appeared  to  wish  to  draw  his  head  gently  to  herself ;  then 
pressed  it  with  sudden  agitation  from  her,  threw  her  head  back,  and 
said  half-aloud,  almost  unintelligibly,  pointing  to  a  chair :  — 

"Arise!     Seat  yourself  there." 


CHAPTER   II. 


A   PROUD   LINEAGE. 


GINO  had  arisen  and  obeyed  her  command. 

"Do  you  believe,"  she  said,  "when  Father  Eustachius 
presented  to  me  his  strange  request  that  I  should  give  to 
a  strange  man  explanations,  that  I  should  have  bidden 
him  lead  you  to  me  if  he  had  not  mentioned  the  name  of  Ortenburg, 
and  if  the  name  had  not  been  that  of  one  of  the  truest  vassal  races 
of  my  house  ?  *  And  now  I  see  you  have  not  applied  this  name 
to  yourself  without  right ;  I  see  that  you  are  worthy  of  your  fathers, 
and  a  true  blood  is  in  you." 

"  I  know  from  the  history  of  my  forefathers  that  we  owe  every- 
thing to  your  house,"  replied  Egino.  "  But  it  is  not  that  which  takes 
such  a  hold  upon  me  in  this  moment ;  which  so  convulses  and  rages 
through  me  ;  which  causes  me  to  pour  forth  a  flood  of  tears,  and  then 
again  rejoice  over  this  most  unexpected  occurrence  of  my  life.  I 
see  the  splendor  of  the  most  illustrious  race  and  celebrated  ancestry 
shine  forth  before  me  in  you, —  in  you,  my  lady " 

"There,  there,"  said  Corradina,  interrupting  him  with  an  impa- 
tient motion  of  the  hand,  "leave  me  aside,  and  speak  of  yourself;  of 
your, —  of  our  land,  of  Germany.  Is  the  memory  and  the  tradition 
still  living  there  of  that  which  once  was  when  still  the  king- 
dom  " 

"  When  the  kingdom  was  still  the  world,  the  civilized  world,  and 
the  entire  circuit  of  Christian  humanity,  and  your  race  the  shield 
and  guardian  of  its  greatness.  Oh,  certainly,  the  tradition  of  it  is 
still  living!  It  lets  your  grandsire,  'The  Redbeard,'  sleep  in  his 
castle ;  the  tradition  itself  does  not  sleep  ;  it  cannot,  dare  not  ever  be 
lost  to  the  German  people ;  for  therein  truly  lies  its  eternal  claim  to 

*  According  to  the  usual  supposition,  the  race  of  the  Hohenstaufens  was  terminated  with 
Conradin,  1268,  and  the  children  of  King  Manfred.  In  truth,  however,  King  Manfred's  younger 
brother,  Frederic,  had  descendants,  who  caused  the  race  to  continue  through  several  centuries 
beyond  that. 

135 


126  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

imperial  rank  among  the  nations, —  the  eternal  reminder  of  her  duty 
to  stride  forward  in  front  of  other  peoples  upon  the  road  leading  to 
the  goal  of  humanity." 

Upon  Corradina's  features  became  diffused,  as  it  were,  the  still 
light  of  joy,  while  Egino  thus  spoke.  She  breathed  quickly,  and 
with  her  great  glance  resting  upon  him  she  said  :  — 

"And  they  still  speak  of  the  Hohenstaufen?" 

"The  Hohenstaufen!  Oh!  believe  me,  the  name  has  a  charmed 
sound  in  every  German  castle,  in  every  house,  in  every  breast.  It 
arouses  a  flight  of  thoughts  in  us  which  are  like  eagles,  and  fly  over 
the  land  ;  it  conjures  forth  pictures  from  the  skill  of  powerful  men 
who  wrestle  with  the  chains  of  ecclesiastical  servitude ;  it  awakens 
around  us  ringing  tones,  as  if  the  golden  strings  began  again  to 
vibrate  to  whose  sound  the  singers  of  Barbarossa  and  Frederic  sang 
of  lofty  deeds  of  knights  and  of  woman's  love  at  every  high  feast  in 
golden  Mainz,  on  the  strand  of  the  German  stream,  or  in  the  castles 
of  Sicily,  on  the  banks  of  the  blue  Mediterranean.  Oh  !  the  sound 
of  this  name  comes  to  meet  us  as  the  roaring  which  passes  through 
the  tops  of  the  German  mountain  forests  with  the  old  voices  of  the 
gods.  It  diffuses  the  sunny  splendor  of  Sicily  around  us  ;  it  wafts  to 
us  the  flower-fragrance  of  Concha  d'oro,  and  its  magic  erects  for  us 
the  loftiest  domes  of  the  father-land.  Forever  stands  the  name  of 
Hohenstaufen  hewn  into  the  foundation  above  which  the  wonderful 
structure  of  the  human  mind  arises." 

Corradina  had  arisen  ;  with  a  quick  movement  she  had  seized  both 
of  Egino's  hands,  and  exclaimed  :  — 

"  That,  that,  binds  me  to  you,  Count  Ortenburg,  not  your  foolish 
request  to  force  yourself  into  my  situation  ;  to  wish  to  play  the 
knight  of  an  oppressed  woman,  for  which  you  seem  to  hold  me. 
But  these  words  do  it ;  these  words  and  this  feeling  out  of  which 
they  spring  make  me  happy " 

"And  how  can  my  feeling  make  you  happy,"  interposed  Egino, 
laying  hold  on  both  her  hands,  "  if  this  feeling  for  you,  for  your 
situation,  should  be  allowed  nothing,  no  service  to  her " 

"  I  do  not  need  your  service,"  said  she,  quickly  withdrawing 
her  hands,  and  turning  away  as  if  suddenly  chilled. 

"  Pardon,  if  I  cannot  believe  it.  A  woman  so  young,  so  beautiful, 
so  lofty  in  thought,  so  warm  in  feeling  as  you,  cannot  be  forced 
to  something  which  you  still  did  only  by  compulsion,  unless " 

"I  did  not  allow  myself  compelled,"  said  she,  proudly  interrupting 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  127 

him  again,  and  throwing  back  her  head.  "The  dead  Luca  was  — 
my  choice  ! " 

"  Impossible  !  "  rejoined  Egino. 

"  And  still  it  is  so.     He  was  my  free  choice  ?  " 

"You  surely  would  not,  uncompelled,  have  given  your  hand  to 
a  dead  man  ? " 

"So  I  did  —  and  forever.     Still,  what  is  that  to  you?" 

"And  then,"  exclaimed  Egino,  "does  it  not  lie  heavily  as  a 
transgression  upon  your  soul, — this  terrible  suicide,  this  crime 
against  your  liberty,  your  life, — this  legerdemain?  Pardon  me; 
passion  carries  me  away " 

"  Speak,  only  speak.  You  believe  I  have  thereby  committed  a 
transgression  ?  I  deny  it.  I  know  what  I'  owe  to  my  name.  You 
reproach  me  with  legerdemain " 

"  Yes ;  you  have  made  sport  of  the  most  important,  the  most 
earnest,  the  most  holy  thing, —  the  vow  of  woman  before  the  altar. 
This  dark  widow's  garb,  without  having  been  the  wife  of  any  man, 
this  name  of  Savelli  which  you  wear, —  are  they  anything  but  a  lier 
as  a  false  mask  ?" 

"  I  have,"  replied  Corradina,  calmly,  "  spoken  with  Father  Eusta- 
chius  about  the  matter ;  he  is  my  father  confessor.  And,"  she 
continued,  with  the  hint  of  a  gentle  smile,  "  should  he  not  be  a 
better  judge  of  it  than  a  young  German  count,  who  has,  indeed,  not 
studied  theology  in  the  school  of  Bologna  ? " 

"Do  you  ask  whether  an  Italian  monk  is  a  better  judge  than  an 
honorable  German  conscience,  noble  lady  ?  Oh !  certainly,  certainly 
not  !  And  if  theology  seems  to  you  a  matter  of  so  much  importance, 
well,  then,  German  theology  will  certainly  feel,  decide,  judge  as  I  do. 
If  you  would  like  to  let  this  come  to  the  test,  I  would  place  before 
you  a  German  divine  who  would  demonstrate  it  to  you.  Oh !  if  I 
had  the  mind  of  Brother  Martin  and  his  eloquence,  to  say  to  you 
what  there  is  in  me  which  revolts  against  your  action,  in  order  to 
tear  away  from  you  this  mask  of  quiet  satisfaction  which  you  present 
to  me, —  in  order  to  win  you  back  again  to  the  life  you  have  re- 
nounced! I  would  that  I  possessed  his  tongue " 

"  In  order  to  hold  for  me  a  penal  lecture  ? "  smilingly  interposed 
Corradina,  in  a  mild  tone.  "  Who,  then,  is  this  eloquent  Brother 
Martin  ? " 

"A  German  monk,  slightly  my  friend,  and  a  man  like  an  apostle." 


128  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"A  monk,  and  at  the  same  time  an  apostle?"  she  rejoined,  with 
a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

"  So  I  say ;  and  if  you  could  hear  him,  if  you  could  see  him  with 
his  flashing  eye " 

"Why  shouldn't  I  see  him  ?  I  have  no  objection.  Bring  me  the 
apostle ;  a  young  woman  may  allow  an  apostle  to  pass  sentence  upon 
her,  not  a  young  knight.  Still,  you  may  be  present  at  the  judgment, 
and  hear  him  absolve  me.  To  be  candid,  although  I  have  no  pleasure 
in  defending  myself  before  you,  yet  I  would  give  a  little  to  be  pro- 
nounced free  from  charge  in  your  presence,  and  to  be  justified.  And 
now  farewell.  It  is  better  that  this  interview  end  now.  Come  with 
him,  your  wonder  of  a  monk,  to-morrow,  if  you  will,  at  this  hour. 
Since  he  is  an  order-man-,  the  cloister  of  Santa  Sabina  will  stand 
open  to  him,  and  the  attendance  of  your  apostle  the  monks  will  cer- 
tainly allow  you  —  if  you  say  I  wish  it !  God  protect  you  !  " 

She  again  reached  him  her  hand,  which  he  pressed  to  his  heart. 

"  I  go,  happy  that,  as  an  Ortenburg,  I  have  the  right  to  be  forever 
your  vassal  and  servant !  " 

A  cool  smile  and  a  slight  nod  of  the  head  answered  this  exclamation 
of  Egino. 

Egino  departed. 

From  the  terrace  outside,  Father  Eustachius  had  disappeared. 
Egino  found  him  again,  beyond,  in  the  garden  of  the  cloister. 

"  And  now,"  asked  the  monk,  stepping  up  to  him  out  of  one  of 
the  walks,  "  are  your  conscientious  scruples  appeased  ?  " 

"  Not  quite,"  answered  Egino  ;  "still,  they  shall  be  to-morrow.  Till 
morning,  also,  you  will  be  obliged  to  tolerate  me  here  in  your  walls  as 
a  guest,  and  allow  to  a  German  monk  to  make  to  me  the  same  road 
which  I  went  to-day." 

"To  a  German  monk  !     Wherefore  ?     For  what  purpose  ?  " 

"Because  he  is  my  friend." 

The  exercise-master  regarded  him  not  agreeably  surprised,  as  it 
seemed.  Then  he  said  :  — 

"  If  Countess  Corradina  desires  it,  what  could  we  have  against 
it  ? " 

"  She  wishes  it." 

The  exercise-master  merely  nodded  the  head,  and  turned  to  pass 
down  the  nearest  walk  ;  still,  after  two  steps,  turning  round,  avoid- 
ing, however,  Egino's  glance,  he  said  softly,  and  with  a  peculiarly 
earnest  intonation  :  — 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  129 

"  Signore  Conte,  I  have  done  for  you  more  than  I  dared.  I  have 
been  silent  to  my  superiors  as  to  the  fact  that  I  have  penetrated  your 
design  ;  I  have  given  you  opportunity  to  satisfy  yourself  over  that 
which  you  presented  as  burdensome  to  your  conscience.  I  have 
also  warned  you  not  to  show  want  of  reverence  toward  the  sons 
of  San  Dominico ;  now  I  warn  you  again.  Leave  the  cloister,  and 
forget  Lady  Corradina  Savelli." 

"  She  has  bidden  me  return  to  her,"  replied  Egino,  obstinately. 
"  You  should  not  hinder  me  from  doing  so.  I  think  want  of  respect 
to  a  Savelli  would  look  as  bad  in  San  Dominico's  monks,  as  in  me 
the  want  of  respect  to  San  Dominico's  monks.  So  I  will  remain,  if 
you  do  not  otherwise  drive  me  out,  and  compel  me  to  construct  a 
road  to  her  through  her  castle,  through  the  open  portal  over  there." 

"That  would  prove  a  difficult  thing  for  you,"  answered  Eusta- 
chius,  looking  upon  the  ground.  "Still,  as  you  will!  Blessed  be 
Jesus  Christ  !  " 

The  monk  moved  slowly  away. 

Egino  betook  himself  to  his  cell,  in  order  to  write  a  letter  to 
Brother  Martin,  in  the  cloister  of  the  Augustines,  at  Santa  Maria 
del  Popolo.  When  he  had  finished  it  he  gave  it,  with  a  bit  of 
money,  to  his  lay  brother,  that  the  latter  might  send  it  to  his  resi- 
dence in  the  Albergo  del  Drago,  where  Gotz  should  seek  out  with 
it  Brother  Martin.  Alessio  promised  to  attend  to  it  faithfully. 


CHAPTER   III. 


LIVIO   SAVELLI. 


| HEN  Egino  was  gone,  Corradina  sat  long  upon  the  couch 
in  the  background  of  her  chamber,  and  looked  through 
the  open  casement  into  the  far  distance,  with  half-shut 
lids,  —  with  that  faint  luster  of  the  eye  which  indicates  how 
far  the  soul  is  removed  from  the  things  now  surrounding  it.  She  sat 
thus  motionless,  her  hands  folded  in  her  lap,  when  she  suddenly- 
started.  Without  having  heard  a  knock  the  side-door  opened,  and 
Count  Livio  Savelli  stepped  upon  the  threshold. 

He  carried  something  in  his  hand,  which  he  placed  before  Corra- 
dina upon  the  little  round  table  at  the  head  of  her  couch ;  then,  with- 
out waiting  for  invitation,  he  took  his  seat  upon  a  chair  standing 
near,  which  Egino  had  previously  occupied. 

"You  love  these  old  works  of  art,  beautiful  sister-in-law,"  he  said, 
showing  to  her,  at  the  same  time,  the  trifle.  "  See  what  I  bring 
you ;  it  is  an  old  silver  bowl,  with  half-raised  figures  upon  it.  The. 
two  dolphins  which  serve  as  handles  are  especially  fine." 

"Indeed,  it  is  beautiful,"  replied  Corradina,  examining  the  old 
and  but  little-injured  dish.  "Whence  did  you  obtain  it  ?" 

"  My  servant  Antonio  bought  it  from  one  of  the  Lombard  peasants 
who  come  here  to  work  in  our  vineyards.  You  know  these  men, 
while  turning  up  the  mold,  find  manifold  treasures,  —  old  bronzes, 
coins,  cameos,  —  and  they  give  them  to  one  for  a  trifling  sum.  I 
thought  the  bowl  would  serve  you  for  throwing  into  it  your  orna- 
ments and  rings." 

"  I  thank  you,  Livio ;  it  is  valuable  to  me  for  its  fine  classic  work- 
manship," replied  Corradina.  "  How  gladly  would  I  seek  for  such 
things !  Also,  I  think  it  must  be  an  absorbing  entertainment  to 
look  upon  the  great  excavations  which  Master  Raphael  Santi  has 
carried  on  in  the  soil  of  our  old  city." 

'3° 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  131 

"  If  you  wish  to  see  it,  Corradina,  I  am  ready  to  take  you. 
As  I  understand,  the  master  will  in  a  short  time  have  them  pene- 
trate into  the  earth  under  our  feet  also.  He  asserts  that  out  of  the 
substructions  of  the  Temple  of  Diana,  which  once  crowned  this  height 
of  the  Aventine,  outlets  must  have  led  down  to  the  river,  and  he  in- 
tends to  search  them  and  lay  them  open,  in  order  to  make  his  way 
into  those  substructions,  which  he  believes  might  also  lead  to  the 
graves  of  the  old  kings  Aventinus  and  Tatius,  or  even  to  the  cavern 
of  the  fabulous  giant  Cacus,  whom  tradition  has  to  reside  just  here. 
In  any  case,  whether  in  the  area  subdivalis  of  Diana's  temple  or  not, 
he  will  somewhere  fall  upon  a  grotto  world  ;  for  where  are  they  not 
to  be  found  in  these  hills  of  ours  ?  And  you  know  how,  in  such  pro- 
tected vaults  and  grottos,  countless  remnants  of  antiquity,  even  fres- 
coes, have  been  found,  which  they,  on  that  account,  call  grotesques." 

"I  know;  but  I  thank  you  for  your  offer,"  said  Corradina.  "It 
would  not  be  suitable  for  me,  in  my  state  of  widowhood,  to  betake 
myself  into  such  a  host  of  laboring-men." 

"In  your  state  of  widowhood  !  You  are  right,  cara  mia"  answered 
Livio  Savelli,  supporting  his  arm  on  the  back  of  his  chair  and  his 
chin  on  his  hand.  "  You  are  right ! "  he  repeated  in  a  slow,  drawling 
tone,  at  the  same  time  observing  Corradina's  features  with  glances 
peculiarly  lurking  under  his  brows.  "  Poor  sister-in-law,  how  long 
will  it  be  possible  for  you  to  play  this  role  ? "  he  then  added,  suddenly 
throwing  up  his  head  in  a  vivacious  manner. 

"  Certainly  so  long  as  custom  bids  me,"  replied  Corradina,  quietly. 

Livio  shook  his  head  gently. 

"  Do  you  believe  it  ?  "  he  said.  "  Do  you  believe  you  could  hold  out 
a  year  long  in  this  dead,  desolate  castle,  seasick  with  tediousness, 
ill  from  disgust  at  the  monotony  of  your  days,  stupid  from  thinking 
always  of  the  same  things  ?  They  say,  '  Out  of  a  cock's  egg  the 
Devil  broods  a  basilisk  : '  loneliness  broods  the  worst  and  most  poi- 
sonous worms  out  of  the  eggs  of  our  imagination." 

"  I  enjoy  this  solitude,"  answered  Corradina,  calmly.  "  I  am  hap- 
pier here  than  in  the  excitement  of  hollow  society,  where  men,  under 
the  forms  of  friendship,  conceal  how  deeply  they  have  departed  from 
it  within.  I  hate  now  for  once  all  concealment.  I  have  always 
loved  solitude ;  what  you  call  tediousness,  I  have  only  experienced 
when  men  around  me  forced  me  to  think  of  things  which  do  not  ap- 
pear worth  the  trouble  that  one  should  think  of  them,  and  yet 
politeness  demands  of  me  to  feign  an  interest  I  do  not  feel.  I  know 


1 32  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

how  to  make  work  for  myself ;  and  I  have  learned  so  much  that  I 
know  how  much  I  have  yet  to  learn  in  order  to  lay  hold  on  and  com- 
prehend the  least  part  of  what  I  should  like  to  comprehend.  And 
so,  then,  I  bless  this  my  lonely  widowhood,  which  is  so  like  my  maiden 
years  at  the  quiet  castle  of  Anticoli,  the  happiest  time  of  my  life." 

"  You  call  that  the  happiest  part  of  your  life,  because  you  were 
then  much  sought  for.  And  so  it  might  please  you.  Women  are 
pleased  only  with  the  continuance  of  that  which  helps  them  to  please 
themselves.  Solitude  here  will  do  that  awhile.  You  will  look  upon 
yourself  in  the  light  of  a  poetic  isolation.  Very  soon,  however,  will 
it  grow  tedious  to  you,  that  only  you  see  yourself  therein,  and  you 
will  soon  desire  to  learn  from  others  how  you  impress  them  in  your 
character  of  recluse." 

Corradina  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"One  only  would  I  like  to  have,"  said  she,  after  a  pause  :  "  I  would 
like  to  have  Angela  again  as  my  maid." 

"  Have  you  so  pardoned  Rafael  Riario  that  you  no  more  avoid  to 
look  in  the  eyes  of  Angela?" 

"  I  have  not  pardoned  the  Cardinal,  and  shall  not  pardon  him.  If 
I  will  overcome  the  avoiding  of  the  eyes  of  Angela  as  a  childish 
feeling,  it  is  because  I  wish  near  me  some  one  I  can  fully  trust." 

"  Do  you  not  trust  me  ?  " 

"  That  you  cannot  yourself  suppose !  "  answered  Corradina,  with 
bitterness. 

"You  do  me  wrong,  deep  wrong,  Corradina.  Your  wish,  how- 
ever, I  cannot  fulfill ;  you  must  tell  it  to  my  father,  who  will  be 
eager  to  do  it." 

Corradina  was  silent. 

"Don't  you  believe  it  ?"  asked  Livio,  again  lifting  upon  her  the 
lurking  glance. 

As  if  to  avoid  an  answer,  Corradina  took  again  the  silver  bowl 
which  Livio  had  brought  her,  and  appeared  to  view  it  attentively.  • 

"  I  forgot  while  I  was  saying  what  I  have  said  hitherto,"  pursued 
Livio  Savelli  now  again,  with  a  wicked  smile  distorting  his  lips, 
"  that  you  are  not  entirely  alone  in  this  old  castle.  My  father  has 
taken  up  his  permanent  residence  herein,  in  order  to  be  able  to  fulfill 
the  duties  of  his  guardianship  over  you  so  much  more  zealously  and 
faithfully." 

"My  marriage  makes  me  of  age,  and  this  castle  is  large,"  she  an- 
swered coolly. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  133 

"Very  large  and  wide  indeed,"  replied  Livio.  "On  one  side  of  it 
many  things  can  happen  of  which  one  may  not  be  aware  on  the 
other  side." 

"  Many  people  can  live  in  it  without  placing  themselves  under 
restraint." 

"  How  unembarrassed  you  act,  cara  mia." 

"  What  is  there  to  make  me  embarrassed  ?  The  Duke  of  Aricia 
has  a  right  to  live  wherever  it  pleases  him  in  his  houses." 

Livio  began  to  drum  with  his  fingers  upon  the  arm-rests  of  his 
chair,  while  he,  apparently  lost  in  thought,  gazed  through  the  win- 
dow into  the  distance. 

"Corradina,"  he  then  said,  "let  us  speak  candidly  with  each  other. 
It  only  depends  upon  you  to  make  an  end  of  this  jugglery  of  widow- 
hood, which  holds  you  here  pent  up  and  separated  from  all  the  joys 
of  life  ;  only  upon  you  to  end  this  danger  which  threatens  you  from 
my  father." 

"What  danger  ?     I  am  the  wife,  the  widow  of  his  son." 

Livio  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"You  are  that,"  he  said  ;  "but  you  see,  indeed,  he  remains  here  in 
nearness  to  you  in  the  house  which  you  should  occupy  as  a  widow  ! 
I  fear  we  have,  with  the  marriage,  done  only  half,  —  only  what  is  in- 
adequate, useless.  It  would  have  been  better  for  you  to  have  become 
mine,  my  wife,  instead  of  the  dead  Luca's." 

Corradina  opened  her  eyes  upon  him  ;  he  could  read  in  them  un- 
concealed astonishment. 

A  bitter  smile  glided  over  his  lips. 

"  For  that  purpose  I  must  have  been  a  widower,  do  you  think  ? " 
he  said.  "Now,  yes.  Perhaps  out  of  love  to  you,  I  might  have 
found  means  to  become  such." 

Her  glance  still  rested  upon  him.  Then  she  turned  away  from 
him,  angrily  knitting  her  brows,  and  with  the  unmistakable  tone  of 
contempt  she  answered  half  aloud  :  — 

"  I  will  not  have  heard  what  you  say  ! " 

"  That  you  are  not  accustomed  to  hear  what  I  say,  I  know.  If  you 
would  do  it  you  would  have  no  man  who  would  devote  himself  more 
entirely  to  you  with  body  and  soul ;  who,  for  your  sake,  would  more 
obstinately  challenge  the  whole  world,  not  even  shunning  death  and 
damnation,  if  it  would  conduce  to  your  happiness." 

"Wrhat  would  that  help  me?"  responded  Corradina,  rejectingly; 
"I  thank  you  for  a  happiness  purchased  with  the  danger  of  death 


134  LUTHER    IN  ROME, 

and  condemnation,  and  the  friendship  of  a  daring  which  challenges 
the  whole  world.  And  with  that  let  us  end  this  conversation.  I  do 
not  see  why  you  came  to  say  this  to  me ;  you  cannot  possibly  be- 
lieve that  it  is  agreeble  to  me  to  hear  it." 

"  Cara  mia"  interposed  Livio,  "do  not  trouble  yourself  about  it; 
for  did  you  never  say  things  to  me  which  were  not  agreeable  for  me 
to  hear  ?  Still,  I  will  obey  you,  and  cut  short  this  interview,  which 
seems  to  become  so  burdensome  to  you.  But  I  cannot  relinquish 
the  thought  that  it  would  be  better  for  you  to  leave  this  castle,  and 
return  to  the  Castle  Savello  bei  Albano.  The  hot  summer  months 
approach,  during  which  the  air  upon  the  Aventine  is  not  healthful ; 
in  the  mountains  beyond  it  is  fresher  —  better  for  you." 

"  Do  you  speak  in  earnest  ?  " 

"  Why  do  you  doubt  it  ?  I  speak  so  very  much  in  earnest  that  I 
have  had  everything  there  made  ready  for  your  reception." 

"  You  have  never  in  your  life  done  anything  more  useless,  Livio  J " 

"  I  believe  it  not.  In  the  first  place,  I  beg  you  only  reflect  over  my 
proposition ;  and  also  say  to  yourself  a  little  that  I  have  made  up  my 
mind  about  the  matter.  For  since  my  father  has  now  lost  his  head, 
I  must,  in  his  place,  take  a  little  authority  in  the  guidance  of  the 
affairs  of  our  house.  I  will  not  allow,  Corradina,  that  you  die  here 
through  the  fever  of  malaria,  through  the  tediousness  of  loneliness, 
or  through  madness  from  terror  of  my  father.  In  the  Castle  Savello 
I  will  do  everything  to  atone  to  you,  through  enjoyment  and  pleasure, 
for  that  which  lies  behind  you.  I  will  also  let  Angela  come  to  you 
there,  if  you  request  it,  although  she  may  be  pretty  well  grown  wild 
with  her  goats  in  the  mountains  !  " 

Corradina  had  slightly  changed  color  at  the  words  of  Livio.  She 
was  evidently  troubled  by  them.  Still  she  arose  and  answered  with 
quiet  pride :  — 

"You  could  make  my  stay  in  this  house  in  all  respects  unendurable 
to  me,  if  you  came  frequently  to  insult  me  with  such  proposals ;  yours, 
however,  would  be  the  last  where  I  would  seek  refuge." 

She  stepped  with  erect  carriage  through  the  room,  and  turning 
her  back  upon  Livio,  entered  a  window-niche. 

Livio's  face  took  on  a  threatening,  angry  expression  ;  a  still  fury 
glowed  through  the  narrow  slits  of  his  eyes,  while  he  stroked  with 
his  hand  that  part  of  his  dark  beard  covering  the  upper  lip,  putting 
it  between  his  teeth  and  biting  upon  it.  Still,  after  a  pause  he  said, 
with  apparently  perfect  calmness  :  — 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  135 

"  You  should  not  make  it  too  hard  for  me,  you  woman  of  marble  ! 
Why  are  you  so  hard  against  me  ?  That  I  should  serve  you,  that  I 
should  assist  you  against  all,  have  you  willingly  allowed  to  be  pleas- 
ing to  you  ;  and  yet  you  knew  how  I  felt  for  you " 

"  Does  your  assistance  to  what  your  own  interest  constrained  you, 
justify  you  in  torturing  me?" 

"  My  interest  because  it  was  yours ;  I  have  never  separated  the 
two.  And  as  to  the  torturing  —  how  may  you  complain  of  trouble 
who  swim  against  a  stream  ?  Cease  to  struggle  against  it !  Still 
you  will  that  I  leave  you.  I  will,  if  you  promise  me  to  reflect  over 
my  proposition." 

"  I  promise  you  to  forget  it ;  that  is  more  favorable  for  you." 

"  You  will  not  be  able  to  forget  it  ;  I  will  return  in  order  to  speak 
of  it  again.  Take  care  of  yourself  in  the  meantime,  caret  sorella" 

He  departed.  When  Corradina  turned  her  face  from  the  window, 
to  be  assured  that  he  had  left  the  room,  her  features  had  become 
pale  as  marble. 

"  It  is  dreadful  !  "  she  whispered,  after  awhile.  "  Can  I  in  no  way 
purchase  rest  from  them,  —  not  even  through  the  most  venturesome 
and  most  difficult  thing  ? 

"And  he  is  right  in  it  all !  I  am  alone,  alone,  — alone  here  !  And 
:so  defenseless,  so  dreadfully  defenseless  against  these  men  !  " 

She  began  to  pace  noiselessly  to  and  fro.  There  came  over  her  a 
sort  of  desperation,  which,  in  order  to  escape  the  intolerable,  might 
blindly  enter  upon  that  course  which  could  snatch  her  away  to  other 
destinies,  and  these  also  hurl  her  life's  boat  into  storm  and 
destruction. 

She  strode  hastily  up  and  down.  She  thought  of  the  German 
who,  so  deeply  moved,  so  passionately,  had  offered  to  her  his  ser- 
vices. "  Oh  that  he  were  only  a  more  mature,  a  more  discreet 
man,  with  gray  hairs!"  she  said  to  herself;  "I  would  say  to  him, 
'  Let  me  fly  with  you, —  fly  over  your  Alps,  and  as  far  as  my  feet 
•can  carry  me  ! ' ' 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IN  THE  STUDIO  OF  RAPHAEL. 

APHAEL  dwelt  on  the  Tiber,  on  the  left  bank,  opposite 
the  great  Hospital  von  San  Spirito  lying  on  the  right,  in 
a  little  house  now  destroyed  ;  for  he  had  not  yet  built  his 
little  palace  on  the  Borgo,  which  is  now  partly  destroyed, 
partly  built  up  into  the  Palace  Accorombone.  Between  the  back  of 
the  house  and  the  river  was  a  little  garden,  which  was  bordered 
along  the  water  by  a  low  wall ;  through  this  wall  a  little  grated  door 
allowed  exit  to  the  moist,  river-washed  stone  steps  leading  down  into 
the  water.  One  does  not  travelin  gondolas  upon  the  charming  Tiber,* 
still,  this  was  a  place  perfectly  adapted  to  landing  with  a  little  boat, 
and  quietly  coming  ashore  in  the  dark,  silent  night. 

The  little  garden  contained  nothing  but  a  starved,  foot-trodden 
sod,  and  some  orange  trees  which  shaded  it ;  some  laurel  bushes  and 
oleanders,  which  covered  from  view,  right  and  left,  the  walls  of  neigh- 
boring houses.  What  further  filled  it  was  not  fruit  or  flowers,  but 
stones ;  stones,  however,  formed  by  the  hand  of  man  into  images  as 
beautiful  as  flowers.  They  were  exhumed  relics  of  antiquity ;  reliefs, 
statues,  busts  of  women,  heroes,  and  gods, —  all  more  or  less  pre- 
served or  half  ruined.  They  stood  among  each  other  rather  irregu- 
larly upon  pedestals,  in  the  grass,  leaned  against  the  trunks  of 
orange  trees.  Also,  now  no  great  veneration  fell  to  their  share,  for  a 
young  girl  of  about  eighteen  was  even  now  busy  winding  a  clothes- 
line about  the  neck  of  a  mutilated  god,  to  whom  was  wanting  the 
legs  up  to  the  thighs  ;  and  he  therefore  seemed  sunken  into  the 
earth,  as  if  gallantly  presenting  to  the  pretty  maiden  his  beautifully 
formed  neck  at  just  the  proper  height. 

Out  of  the  garden  a  little  flight  of  two  or  three  steps  led  into  the 
house  through  a  door-opening,  which  was  covered  only  with  a  blue 
curtain.  This  curtain  was  even  now  drawn  back  by  the  master  of 
the  house,  and  fastened  at  the  side  to  a  hook. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  137 

The  painter  stepped  upon  the  threshold ;  he  leaned  himself  with 
the  left  shoulder  against  the  withdrawn  drapery,  so  that  one  freely 
obtained  a  glance  beyond  him  into  the  spacious  studio,  filled  with  a 
soft  light,  out  of  which  he  stepped. 

His  eyes  followed  the  movements  of  the  young  girl. 

"  You  throw  a  halter  around  the  neck  of  the  Apollo ;  has  he  de- 
served it  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Eh,  who  knows  ? "  she  answered.  "  I  only  know  he  very  patiently 
allows  the  rope  to  be  fastened  around." 

"And  whoever  patiently  allows  a  rope  placed  about  his  neck,  also- 
deserves  it,  you  mean,  Margarita." 

"These  wicked  old  gods  have  all  deserved  it,"  she  replied,  "arid 
most  certainly  such  a  Bacchus  as  this ;  for  it  is  a  Bacchus,  and  no' 
Apollo,  as  you  call  him." 

"  And  will  you  draw  the  distinction  between  them  —  you  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  Have  I  not  yet  heard  you,  Master  Raphael,  and  your 
learned  friends  talk  enough  about  such  things  ?  This  quite  light 
and  tenderly  rounded  body,"  she  continued,  observing  the  marble 
with  a  precociously  knowing  mien,  "  this  soft  breast,  these  full  hips, 
are  those  of  a  Bacchus  or  an  Antinous,  not  of  an  Apollo,  whose 
frame  must  be  stronger,  firmer." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Raphael,  laughing,  "one  might  go  to  school  to  you." 

"And  still  I  have  learned  all  this  in  your  school!  Otherwise  what 
care  I  for  these  naked  old  gods  ?  What  you  could  learn  from  me,. 
carissimo,  are  other  things ." 

"And  what?" 

"Eh,  much.     Men  could  always  learn  very  much  from  women." 

"Not  one  thing  could  you  teach  us,  Margarita." 

"  One  ?  I  think  many,  because  you  do  not  now  understand  many 
things  which  they  try  to  bring  to  your  doors." 

"  No  ;   only  one  —  how  to  be  deprived  of  you  !  " 

"And  if  we  could,  would  we  be  willing  to  it  ?  "  she  rejoined,  smil- 
ing with  her  whole  pretty,  roguish  face. 

"We  could  not  do  without  you  —  and  still  we  have  you  not !  "  he 
added. 

"Now  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"  No  ;  you  do  not  understand  that,"  he  replied,  coming  out,  in  order 
to  seat  himself  near  her  upon  the  head  of  an  old  marble  bust,  and  to 
so  draw  the  "  Fornarina "  to  himself,  that  he  could  lay  his  head 
against  her1  with  half-shut  eyes. 


138  LUTHER    IN   ROME, 

"  You  have  us  not  ? "  she  responded,  laying  her  hand  upon  his 
dark  hair,  with  a  half  undertone.  "Did  you  say  that  to  me  —  to 
me  ?  And  I  mean,"  she  continued,  with  louder  and  almost  angry 
tone,  "you  would  formerly  have  found  still  many  of  them,  from  your 
friend  to  whom  your  glowing  sonnets  pertain,  to  your  betrothed 
Maria  Bibiena,  to " 

"Ah!  my  dear,  ethereal  bride  —  the  poor,  tender  plant  who  was 
too  sensitive  for  this  harsh,  terrestrial  atmosphere  —  do  not  remind 
me  of  her !  "  interposed  Raphael,  with  a  sigh.  "  And  what  befell  that 
lofty,  glorious  being  who " 

Margarita,  pettishly  drawing  her  brows  together,  gave  him  a  gen- 
tle tap  on  the  beautiful,  expressive  mouth  with  the  "  well-mated  lips," 
which  seemed  about  to  express  something  that  could  only  have 
astonished  and  charmed  her. 

"Why  do  you  strike  me  before  I  have  spoken?"  said  Raphael. 
4t  Do  you  know  what  I  would  say  ?  See,  I  meant  it  this  way : 
we  have  in  you  not  yourself  as  you  cause  our  desires  to  paint 
you ;  we  have  not  that  in  you  which  our  souls  yet  cannot  do 
without  —  there  lies  the  pain  of  life  for  us." 

"  What  have  you  not  in  us  ?  "  asked  Margarita.  "  No  angels,  but 
weak  women,  who  love  you  more  than  you  faithless  creatures 
deserve.  Is  it  that  of  which  you  wish  to  complain  ? " 

"  You  are  right.  Take  it  so.  What  shall  I  complain  of  you  ? 
What  shall  I  reproach  you  for  ?  Do  you  know  the  story  of  Pygma- 
lion, the  sculptor,  who  carved  a  woman  out  of  stone,  and  effected 
that  his  prayers  to  Jove  gave  her  a  soul,  and  made  her  living  ? 
Since  then  it  has  happened  to  the  contrary  with  many  men ; 
they  have  a  living,  loving  wife,  on  whom  they  hew  and  labor  so 
much  she  becomes  stone  to  them.  Therefore  will  I  rather  leave  you 
as  you  are,  Margarita.  Is  it  your  fault  if  in  you  that  divine  and 
eternal  something  in  which  our  soul  seeks  its  life  does  not  burn  ? 
Not  that  light  which  your  beauty  seems  to  radiate  from  itself, 
.and  that  is  still  only  a  reflection  which  our  ardor  throws  upon  you  ?" 

"Then,"  answered  Margarita,  gayly,  and  little  touched  by  this 
speech,  "it  happens  to  us  as  to  the  planets,  to  whom  also  their  light 
is  thrown  only  by  the  glow  of  the  sun.  What  more  do  you  want, 
you  great  proud  sons  of  men,  than  to  find  in  us  living  planets  from 
your  light  ? " 

"Ah!  planets  are  heavenly  bodies  —  and  you  are  vain  earthly 
dust ;  painted  dishes  upon  the  table  of  fortune ;  beautiful  still 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  139 

life  —  without  idea  !  And  so  we  end  the  struggle  with  the  insatiable 
thirst  of  the  soul  for  the  infinite,  which  is  not  in  you  and  not  about 
you,  in  creating  and  forming  as  if,  indeed,  we  reach  it  there !  All 
our  trouble  and  labor  is  only  the  restrained  love-force  which  takes 
pleasure  in  the  poem,  in  color,  or  in  stone." 

"  So  it  is  well  that  your  lofty,  glorious  sonnet  queen  is  not  yours, 
as  your  Fornarina,  this  poor  lantern,  in  whom  you  find  no  light," 
remarked  Margarita,  with  pouting  of  the  red  lips;  "for  if  she  ap- 
peased your  repressed  love-force,  you  would  throw  away  from  you 
brush  and  colors,  and  let  Pope  Julius  see  how  he  would  get  his 
chamber  walls  painted !  " 

"So  it  is,"  answered  Raphael,  "perhaps.  I  would  live,  love,  be 
happy  and  idle,  throw  from  me  the  brush,  all  that  vexed  me,  and  — 
even  almost  forget  the  sermon  of  the  rude  German  monk." 

"  Of  what  German  monk  ?  " 

"  Of  a  German  monk  who  has  vexed  me ;  still,  what  does  that  con- 
cern you  ?  Follow  me  ;  you  must  sit  for  me." 

"  I  cannot  to-day,  it  is  so  fearfully  tiresome  ;  and  you  always  paint 
something  quite  other  than  myself,  when  I  have  sat  there  all  day 
long  with  the  patience  of  an  ass,  as  motionless  as  a  statue." 

"  I  paint  your  hands,  your  shoulders,  your  breast,  the  folds  of  your 
drapery  which  I  throw  over  you,  but  your  features  I  cannot  use.  I 
need  others  if  I  paint  an  angel,  my  little  demon  ;  others  if  I  repre- 
sent the  deepest  and  most  sacred  mother-love ;  for  you,  with  your 
roguish  eyes,  your  saucy  lips,  as  red  as  fresh-blown  pomegranate 
blossoms " 

"  I  am  no  saint ;  I  know  it,"  replied  Margarita,  with  a  mixture  of 
pouting  and  sadness,  looking  away  from  Raphael  beyond  the  stream 
into  the  distance.  "But  you,  —  you  should  not  throw  it  up  to  me  !  " 

"Do  I,  anima  miaf" 

"  Oh  !  you  say  to  me  to-day  none  but  bad  things  ;  I  will  hear 
nothing  more,  and  go  to  bring  my  washing.  But  let  this  be  said  to 
you,  that  I  have  not  the  least  respect  for  your  'deepest  and  most 
sacred  mother-love '  as  you  represent  it  in  your  Madonnas,  although 
all  men  praise  them  and  outweigh  them  with  gold." 

"  No  ?  And  why  are  you  not  satisfied  with  them  ?  Let  us  hear, 
Margarita." 

"  What  shall  I  say  ?  That  is  also  one  of  the  things  about  which 
we  could  not  teach  you  men  anything,  for  you  cannot  understand 
us." 


I4o  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  Tell  me,  anyway ;  I  will  make  every  effort  to  understand  your 
instruction,  carissima." 

"Well,  then,  do  you  believe  that  the  Madonna  was  a  good,  hon- 
est woman,  with  a  whole,  strong,  womanly  heart  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"Well,  then,  she  did  not  become  espoused  and  wedded  to  St. 
Joseph  without  loving  him.  Is  that  true  ? " 

"That  is  true." 

"And  do  your  Madonnas  love  their  St.  Joseph?  " 

"  They  love  the  infant  more  !  " 

"  And  you  have  never  reflected  over  why  and  wherefore  a  mother 
loves  her  child,  and  when  she  does  it  with  the  fullness  of  her  soul  ? 
Truly,"  continued  she,  hesitating  and  half-aloud,  "if  I  had  a 
child " 

"  You  —  now,  you  ?  "  said  Raphael,  looking  at  her  and  searching 
her  eyes. 

She  turned  her  eyes  slowly  to  his  with  a  half-tender,  half-reproach- 
ful look,  then  went  to  the  house.  When  she  reached  the  steps  of 
the  door,  she  turned  back  smiling  roguishly. 

"Come,  come,"  she  said,  "you  paint  the  Madonna  gazing  in 
•ecstasy  upon  the  infant,  and  St.  Joseph,  delighted,  in  the  back- 
ground. That  is  clever,  manly  labor,  and  I  will  go  to  my  stupid 
woman's  work." 

Raphael  with  both  hands  stroked  the  hair  from  his  brow;  then 
supporting  his  chin  upon  his  hand,  he  said:  — 

"  Margarita  should  take  this  German  monk  to  task  with  such 
thoughts  !  Will  that  simple  cowl-wearer  never  get  out  of  my  head  ?  " 

He  sat  there  awhile  thinking,  when  a  servant  stepped  upon  the 
threshold  of  the  garden  door. 

"What  do  you  wish,  Baviera  ? "  he  asked. 

"There  are  two  gentlemen  here  who  wish  to  speak  with  you," 
replied  Baviera.  "The  one  is  Monsignora  von  Ragusa,  the  other  a 
monk." 

"  A  monk  ?     Of  what  order  ?  " 

"From  Santa  Maria  del  Popolo." 

"A  yet  young  man  ?     I  am  coming." 

The  servant  stepped  back.  Raphael  arose  to  go  hastily  and 
excitedly  into  his  studio. 

This  was  a  great,  cool  room,  lighted  on  the  north  —  that  is,  toward 
the  garden  and  the  river — by  a  large,  broad,  but  rather  high-placed 


THE   HOLY   FAMILY.     (RAPHAEL.) 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  •  141 

window,  in  whose  neighborhood  stood  the  easel,  with  the  adjustable 
stool  of  the  painter  before  it.  On  the  dark-red  painted  walls  hung 
pictures  in  oil  and  sketches,  mostly  without  frames,  but  symmetri- 
cally arranged.  Below  them  extended,  along  the  wall,  a  long, 
cushioned  seat  after  the  fashion  of  a  divan ;  a  smaller  easel  stood 
in  one  corner;  a  large  table  with  papers  and  drawing  materials  upon 
it,  all  very  well  ordered,  in  the  other.  The  whole  made  the  impres- 
sion of  the  utmost  simplicity.  All  the  thousand  objects  which  fill 
another  studio  with  its  hereditary  house-furniture,  its  casts,  its 
statuettes,  its  draperies,  its  old  weapons,  and  so  forth,  were  wanting 
here.  It  was  evident  that  the  man  who  thought,  felt,  and  created 
here  in  this  one,  did  not  have  the  need  to  become  confused  by  a 
chaos  of  gay  colors  and  forms,  but  to  keep  far  from  himself  perplex- 
ing impressions. 

There  were  also  enough  of  those  objects  which  pertain  to  the  pro- 
fession in  the  great  back  room  opening  from  the  studio,  and  into 
which  one  looked  through  an  open  door.  There  were  a  pair  of  young- 
people  occupied  at  easels,  another  pair  sat  at  drawing-tables  ;  in  the 
background  already  stood  Baviera,  again  rubbing  colors,  and  around 
on  the  walls,  on  the  furniture,  was  a  full  supply  of  those  things 
which  could  serve  as  models  or  implements  for  any  demand  of  the 
work,  or  of  pleasure. 

The  young  men  there  beyond  appeared  accustomed  to  a  respectful 
stillness  in  the  presence  of  the  master.  They  labored  in  silence,  or 
only  whispering. 

When  Raphael  had  stepped  into  the  front  chamber,  he  found  the 
two  men  announced  standing  in  its  midst. 

The  monk  was  no  other  than  the  one  he  had  expected  to  see, 
according  to  Baviera's  announcement ;  it  was  Brother  Martin.  The 
other  was  a  medium-sized,  strong  man,  whose  fat,  yet  lively  and 
intelligent  face,  with  the  squinting  glances,  the  highly  mobile  fea- 
tures, was  not  entirely  adapted  to  the  costume  of  a  bishop, — the 
violet  robe,  the  hat  with  its  gold-interwoven  green  band,  in  which 
he  appeared. 

"  Monsignore  Phadra,"  said  Raphael,  extending  his  hand  to  the 
latter,  "you  surprise  and  rejoice  me." 

"  Do  not  say  that  so  hastily,  Master  Santi,"  said  the  one  addressed. 
"Will  it  rejoice  you  if  I  come  for  the  first  time  to  scold  you  that  you 
have  not  come  to  wish  me  joy  over  the  occasion  of  my  elevation  to 
the  bishopric  of  Ragusa  ?  " 


142  -LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  Oh  !  Was  that  not  joy  enough  for  one  man  like  you  ?  Should  I 
wish  you  still  more?"  rejoined  Raphael,  banteringly,  and  inviting 
both  men  to  take  places  on  the  settee. 

"  Does  there  not  belong  to  every  office  understanding  and  happi- 
ness ? "  replied  the  bishop.  "  And  must  you  not  wish  to  a  friend  so 
much  the  more  of  these,  the  less  of  them  you  give  him  credit  for  ? 
In  the  second  place,  however,"  continued  Monsignore  Phadra,  seat- 
ing himself,  "  I  bring  you  a  man  here  of  awful  learning ;  an  incredu- 
lous, obdurate  German,  who  places  himself  in  opposition  to  your  art, 
and,  I  fear,  only  insists  upon  it  so  warmly,  that  I  introduce  him  to 
you  because  he  has  the  intention  to  quarrel  with  you  like  a  genuine 
German." 

"Since  you  call  me  a  German  monk,"  here  interposed  Brother 
Martin,  "I  have  the  right  to  be  a  little  rugged; -and  therefore  I  say 
to  you  candidly,  my  Lord  Bishop,  that  I  would  like  first  to  quarrel 
with  you  because  you  present  so  incorrectly  what  caused  me  to  wish 
to  be  allowed  to  visit  this  Master  Santi  in  his  workshop." 

"  Well,  then,  present  it  yourself,"  answered  the  friend  of  Raphael, 
whom  the  latter  addressed,  not  by  his  name,  Tommaso  Inghirami, 
but  Monsignore  Phadra.  The  spiritual  gentleman  had  one  time, 
when  he  was  not,  as  to-day,  librarian  of  the  Pope,  and  bishop,  played 
the  Phaedra  in  a  representation  of  Seneca's  tragedy  of  Hyppoly- 
tus,  and  therein,  when  a  halt  in  the  machinery  suspended  the 
progress  of  the  piece,  had  with  such  great  presence  of  mind  enter- 
tained the  spectators  with  improvised  Latin  verses,  that  the  nick- 
name had  remained  with  him  for  all  time. 

"That  I  will,"  responded  Brother  Martin.  "See,  noble  master,  I 
was  in  the  Vatican  Palace,  in  the  rooms  which  Pope  Sixtus  IV.  had 
arranged  for  the  celebrated  collection  of  books,  with  whose  oversight 
this  worthy  bishop  is  intrusted.  He  was  condescending  enough  to 
lead  me  around  therein,  and  show  to  me  the  learned  treasures  which 
Pope  Nicholas  V.  has  collected  there,  and  which  he  brought  hither 
from  Avignon,  so  that  our  gloriously  reigning  Holiness  has  acquired 
them.  Among  them,  Monsignore  Inghirami  showed  me  also  a 
wonderful  manuscript,  with  little  miniature  pictures  finely  delineated 
in  gold  and  vermilion,  and  other  colors  such  as  I  had  never 
seen  before ;  and  when  I  fell  into  raptures  over  it,  this  learned 
gentleman  laughed  at  me,  and  called  all  that  with  which  these  old 
artists  presented  the  mysteries  of  faith  in  the  living  human  form  as 
a  mockery  compared  with  that  created  by  the  new  school  of  art,  and 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  143 

especially  by  yourself,  Master  Raphael.  And  so  we  fell  into  a 
dispute  over  your  style  of  art,  which  ended  with  Monsignore 
Inghirami's  angrily  drawing  me  away  to  follow  him  into  your  place 
of  work,  where,  he  said,  my  eyes  should  teach  me  another  thing. 
My  heart  now  desired  nothing  better;  for,  since  I.  have  seen  your 
pictures  in  the  chambers  of  the  Vatican,  something  has  lain  heavily 
upon  my  spirit,  and  I  am  revolutionized  in  my  thoughts." 

"  Indeed  ?  "  asked  Raphael,  listening  intently.  "  It  has  not  gone 
much  better  with  me  since  you  recently,  by  your  words,  pressed  a 
sting  into  my  soul.  For,  to  confess  it  to  you,  it  has  vexed  me 
deeply  that  a  man,  who  with  good  intellect,  and  fresh  thought, 
and  accurate  mind,  comes  to  me  from  a  foreign  world,  consents  not 
to  that  for  which  I  strive,  but  falls  into  opposition  to  it.  It  was  no 
consolation  to  say  to  myself :  '  He  is  only  a  monk  crossed  in  his 
scholasticism,  and  whose  mother's  milk  was  that  oi:  superstition'  — 
pardon  me  the  candid  speech.  I  said  to  myself :  '  Shall,  then,  all 
that  you  have  reached  not  be  great  and  powerful  enough  to  over- 
come such  a  monk  with  his  superstition  and  scholasticism  ?  Are 
my  works  not  eloquent  enough  to  heal  and  turn  back  such  a  mind 
from  its  unsoundness  ?  Are  my  forms  not  strong  enough  to  compel 
him  who,  foreign  to  their  world,  steps  before  them  for  the  first  time 
to  kneel  down  before  their  grandeur?  Upon  the  brow  and  in  the 
eye  of  this  monk  lay  still  a  human  challenge,  whose  voice  I  must 
hear ! '  And  there  seized  upon  me  a  wonderful  unrest,  an  impulse  to 
attain  to  something  higher,  more  powerful,  something  irresistibly 
compelling,  a  stinging  impulse  of  longing,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
an  apostolic  inclination  to  manifest  still  more  clearly,  more  devotedly 
to  the  world,  the  beauty  which  I  sought  to  represent  —  still  more 
illuminated  by  a  light  which  can  truly  only  stream  forth  from  them 
out  of  a  heavenly  beyond.  So  arose  before  my  mind  the  image  of  a 
Madonna,  —  of  a  woman  who  swayed  upon  the  clouds,  beautiful  as  the 
most  beautiful  woman  that  ever  walked  upon  the  earth,  and  yet  from 
whose  features,  from  whose  eyes,  flows  down  upon  you  the  fullness 
of  infinity;  so  that  you,  let  you  be  the  most  obdurate  monk  in  the 
world,  must  sink  upon  the  knees  before  her,  whether  you  will  or 
not." 

Brother  Martin  looked  with  an  expression  of  surprise  into  the 
shining,  self-glorified  countenance  of  the  painter.  Then  he  said  :  — 

"  I  had  not  believed  that  my  recent  words  aroused  in  you  so  much 
reflection.  What  happened  to  me  I  willingly  tell  you,  —  that  your 


144  LUTHER    IX   ROME. 

works  have  sunk  me  into  a  real  melancholy.  I  saw  the  world  around 
me  here  sinfully  turned  away  from  Christianity ;  I  saw  the  customs 
becoming  savage ;  the  church  led  by  men  who  see  in  her  a  great 
institution  of  force.  I  saw  science  alienated  from  the  faith  ;  and  I 
saw  also,  now,  still  the  highest  that  man  mentally  creates,  art,  turn 
itself  away  from  Christian  reality !  Shall,  then,  the  Rock  of  Peter 
become  a  solitary,  barren  island  in  the  stream,  on  which  the  waters 
overflow  without  troubling  themselves  further  about  it  ?  Shall  the 
faith  become  lost  to  the  world  ?  Shall  worldly  wisdom  become  our 
morals  ;  pleasure,  our  dogma ;  sensual  beauty,  our  worship  ?  You 
could  not  wish  that !  Not  you !  Afterward  I  burned  to  ask  you 
what  would  happen  if  art  again  would  turn  itself  to  the  highest,  to 
the  revelation  of  divinity;  become  a  theology,  and  Christianize 
morals,  instead  of  decoying  them  deeper  into  paganism." 

Raphael,  meditating,  supported  his  brow  upon  his  hand  ;  then  he 
said  :  — 

"  Do  I  know  ?  If  art  should  turn  itself  to  theology,  then  give  us 
theology,  so  that  it  may  be  possible.  Give  it  to  us  pure,  great,  free, 
in  harmony  with  the  inner  life  of  man  ;  give  us  a  theology  which  falls 
like  dew  upon  our  spirits,  not  one  which  requires  of  our  lips  to  bab- 
ble the  rosary;  of  our  knees  a  gliding  up  holy  stairs  ;  of  our  stomachs 
to  fast ;  of  our  hands  gold  for  every  kind  of  favor.  Give  to  us  a 
doctrine,  not  of  fear  and  of  threatening,  but  of  love  and  of  liberty. 
To  it  can  art  turn,  with  it  go  hand  in  hand.  Fear,  and  hate,  and 
horror,  and  devil,  and  hell,  and  torment,  and  death  I  cannot  paint." 

"  You  see,"  here  remarked  the  bishop  of  Ragusa,  "  our  Master  is 
an  obdurate  heretic,  and  you  will  do  nothing  with  him,  Fra  Martino. 
If  I  tell  you  candidly  what  I  think,  it  is  my  advice  to  let  him  go  as 
he  will.  Art  will  neither  aid  nor  harm  religion  much;  just  as 
dogma,  again,  neither  aids  nor  harms  morals  a  great  deal,  if  man 
looks  upon  it  as  a  great  whole.  The  heathen  Nero  was  a  very  bad 
fellow ;  the  Christian  Ezzelin  von  Romano  a  still  much  worse.  The 
Emperor  Diocletian,  the  heathen,  had  very  many  Christians  tortured 
to  death  ;  Pope  Innocent  III.,  of  praiseworthy  memory,  and  his  great 
general,  Simon  von  Montfort,  these  good  Christians  would  have 
treated  in  the  same  way  many  more  of  the  Albigensians,  an  upright 
people,  if  there  had,  indeed,  been  more  of  them  !  " 

"And  you  say  that, —  you,  a  bishop?"  asked  Brother  Martin. 

"  I  say  it,"  responded  Monsignore  Phadra  calmly,  "  for  see,  I 
think  it  all  depends  upon  man's  receiving  a  good  education,  upon 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  145 

his  being  led  by  instruction  to  thought ;  by  good  breeding,  to  mastery 
over  himself.  As  to  religions,  however,  they  and  the  representations 
of  men  about  the  future  life  are  always  very  different,  and  yet  men 
always  have  remained  very  much  the  same." 

Troubled  by  this  speech  of  an  Italian  bishop,  the  German  monk 
continued  :  — 

"  I  will  grant  to  you  that  art  has  never  had  much  influence  over 
men, —  your  art,  which,  with  all  your  thoughts  and  your  knowledge, 
you  put  into  paganism.  Old  Rome,  God  knows,  had  art  enough  : 
temples,  columns,  statues,  baths,  gold  and  ivory,  and  splendor 
around, —  inestimable,  for  us,  inconceivable  magnificence.  And  all 
these  Romans,  moving  about  in  the  midst  of  such  splendor — what 
were  they  other  than  miserable  dogs,  shabby  bloodhounds  all  and 
severally  ?  They  scourged  slaves  ;  they  slaughtered  prisoners ;  they 
caused  gladiators  to  tear  each  other's  flesh  for  their  amusement ; 
they  let  poor  men  be  torn  of  beasts ;  and  they  wandered  at  pleasure 
in  the  light  of  burning  torches  whose  cores  were  living  men.  They 
were  horrible  wretches  despite  all  their  art.  And  so  you  see  of 
what  use  your  art  is.  Christianity  alone  has  softened  the  manners  ; 
has  tamed  rudeness ;  has  disclosed  to  man  his  inner  self.  A 
spiritual  song  that  I  sing  to  my  lute  gives  to  my  soul  more  consola- 
tion, more  trust  in  God,  than  all  the  statues  of  all  the  Grecian 
sculptors,  than  all  the  bath  halls  of  all  the  Roman  emperors.  There- 
fore, I  say,  put  Christianity  in  your  art,  or  it  is  good  for  nothing." 

"And  I,"  responded  Raphael,  "answer  you:  Give  us  a  Christian- 
ity that  can  receive  into  itself  our  art." 

"You  have  the  Christianity,"  exclaimed  Brother  Martin.  "'To 
you  it  is  given  to  understand  the  mysteries  of  heaven,'  says  the 
Master." 

"No;  we  haven't  it,"  replied  Raphael.  "Your  Christianity,  as  you 
have  formulated  it,  is  not  adapted  to  us.  It  has  long  lain  upon  me 
painfully,  and  often  has  it  become  a  real  torment  to  me,  that  I  indeed 
felt  it  and  still  did  not  confess  it  to  myself ;  the  evidence,  however, 
came  over  me  as  an  inner  revelation.  Will  you  hear  how  it  was  ? 
It  was  in  Sienna,  seven  or  eight  years  ago,  maybe.  I  had  come  into 
the  city  in  order,  with  Messer  Pinturicchio,  to  paint  new  frescoes  in 
the  library  of  the  cathedral.  One  day  I  was  shut  up  alone  in  this 
great  library  hall.  I  was  eager  to  delineate  a  Christian  saint,  —  a  poor 
suffering,  female  martyr.  I  drew,  — again  I  erased  my  lines  ;  I  made 
them  anew,  and  felt  that  I  created  bungling  work.  Vexed,  I  fell  into 


146  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

an  irritated  humor.  The  saint  with  her  moonshine  body,  her  starved 
features,  troubled  me  finally  as  a  ghost.  I  could  not  find  the  form 
or  the  features ;  she  placed  upon  me,  as  it  were,  an  Alp  which  shut 
off  my  breath.  Tired  of  wrestling  with  her,  I  mopped  my  brow  and 
threw  away  the  charcoal,  and,  taking  a  deep  breath,  turned  away. 
And  see !  when  I  turned,  my  eye  fell  upon  that  antique  group  of 
graces  in  the  middle  of  the  hall ;  that  group  which,  in  the  thirteenth 
century,  some  one  in  Sienna  dug  out  of  the  rubbish,  and  which,  in 
spite  of  its  mutilation,  shines  forth  as  formerly  in  the  full  glory  of 
eternal  youth  and  sublime  beauty.  My  eyes  rested,  as  if  bound  by 
magic,  upon  these  forms  ;  it  was  as  if  invisible  threads  drew  me  to 
them  ;  upon  my  soul  there  fell  as  if  a  light,  and  with  the  light  there 
came  as  if  an  inner  rejoicing  over  me.  I  seized  my  pencil  again, 
moved  to  the  profoundest  depths  of  my  being  ;  I  turned  over  the  leaf 
with  the  misdrawn  saint,  and  my  hands,  as  if  winged  with  ecstasy, 
drew  upon  the  back  the  heathen  forms  of  marble,  —  the  nude  women 
of  the  gods.  From  that  on  all  was  clear  to  my  mind  ;  the  library 
hall  of  Sienna  was  my  way  to  Damascus."  * 

"  Paul  became  a  Christian,  you  a  pagan  !  "  retorted  Brother  Martin,, 
dryly. 

"Not  quite,"  rejoined  Raphael.  "But  let  us  drop  this  contention, 
which  would  never  end.  Come  here  and  see  for  yourself  these 
drawings  ;  perhaps  you  will  sometime  learn  to  think  otherwise." 

He  arose  and  went  into  the  room  where  his  pupils  were  busied. 

Here  he  opened  a  portfolio,  and  drew  out  of  it  a  great  leaf,  which 
was  covered  with  drawings.  With  it  he  returned,  and  placed  it  upon 
his  easel. 

"See,"  said  he,  when  the  two  men  stepped  up,  "that  is  the  sketch 
of  a  picture  which  I  have  designed  for  Messer  Agostino  Chigi.  He 
is  to  build  a  villa  over  there  on  the  banks  of  the  Tiber,  and  I  have 
undertaken  to  adorn  it  for  him  with  frescoes.  He  wishes  one  of 
them  to  be  the  story  of  Galatea.  If  you  are  less  versed  in  heathen 
mythology,  our  learned  bishop  here  will  be  able  to  give  us  reliable 
information  who  Galatea  was." 

"The  information  stands  at  your  service,"  said  the  learned  bishop 
and  librarian.  "You  must  know,  in  the  first  place,  that  there  are 
three  Galateas.  Theocritus  speaks  of  one ;  she  is  a  young,  sensuous 
Sicilian,  who  throws  apples  at  the  sheep  of  Polyphemus,  in  order  to- 
attract  the  attention  of  the  giant  to  herself,  and  to  excite  his  desires. 

*  The  leaf  is  still  in  the  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  in  Venice. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  147 

The  second,  the  Galatea  of  Lucian,  is  not  so  bold  and  wanton,  but  a 
haughty  village  beauty,  the  beloved  of  Polyphemus,  and  very  proud 
of  the  conquest  of  the  giant.  Quite  different  is  the  third,  a  Nereid, 
described  in  the  Metamorphoses  of  Ovid.  She  is  a  charming  woman 
inflamed  with  passion,  who  loves  the  beautiful  Acis,  and  one  day, 
resting  by  his  side,  she  is  surprised  by  the  uncouth  giant,  who,  burn- 
ing with  jealousy,  hurls  a  piece  of  rock  at  the  poor  Acis,  which 
crushes  him  in  pieces.  Galatea,  however,  in  deadly  anguish,  escapes 
the  giant ;  she  throws  herself  into  the  sea,  in  order  upon  its  bottom 
to  save  herself  in  the  house  of  her  father  Nereus." 

"Now,  see,"  said  Raphael,  as  Tommaso  Inghirami  finished,  "this 
drawing.  If  I  were  a  heathen,  as  you  say,  I  would  have  preferred  the 
sensual,  inordinate  Galatea  of  Theocritus,  or  the  self-conscious  one  of 
Lucian,  haughty  and  glad  of  her  beauty ;  I  would  have  chosen  one  of 
them  for  my  representation.  I  chose  the  one  of  Ovid,  because  she 
alone  allows  herself  to  be  represented  as  pure  and  chaste,  and,  so  to 
say,  with  a  soul  within, —  with  a- soul  full  of  beautiful,  ennobling, 
human  grief  over  her  slain  lover.  This  grief  gives  to  her  some- 
thing sacred,  glorious,  chaste  —  so,  at  least,  I  have  thought  and 
willed.  I  have  wished  to  represent  an  ideal  beauty  and  an  existence 
of  soul  which,  finally,  I  do  not  believe  you  will  find  with  the 
heathen ! " 

"And  that,"  put  in  Tommaso  Inghirami,  contemplating  Raphael's 
drawing,  "have  you  accomplished  in  a  masterly  manner,  friend 
Raphael.  This  nude  beauty,  this  unveiled,  blooming  young  body, 
with  the  noble  head  looking  upward  as  if  complaining,  has  gone  be- 
yond every  conceivable  desire,  because  you  knew  how  to  place  in 
her  a  soul ;  and  where  a  soul  is,  there  is  no  more  what  our  German 
brother  chides  as  paganism.  Your  works,  Master  Raphael  Santi, 
are  like  children's  faces,  which  bear  in  their  features,  strangely 
mingled  and  no  more  distinguishable,  the  physiognomies  of  the 
father  and  mother. 

"There  look  out  of  your  works  both  paganism  and  Christianity;  the 
form-beauty  of  the  one,  the  soul-beauty  of  the  other,  — the  depths  of 
soul  which  could  not  yet  be  given  to  the  world  without  Christianity. 
Fervor  and  dissolving  in  God's  love,  enthusiastic  living  beyond  into 
the  other  life,  Giotto  and  Fra  Angelico  have  already  known  how  to 
represent.  You,  however,  have  Understood  that  after  which  our  art, 
for  a  century  perhaps,  has  already  struggled,  what  our  minds  in  our 
free  culture  require, —  to  find  the  free,  beautiful  form  for  the  soul-life, 


148  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

and  put  to  it,  while  you  bring  it  into  this  form,  that  which  made 
tattered  and  distorted  the  true  nature.  And  so  you  have,  it  seems 
to  me,  through  the  blending  of  the  heathen  form  and  the  Christian 
ideal  of  our  time,  impressed  upon  it  its  highest  seal." 

"You  praise  me  too  much,  Monsignore,"  said  Raphael;  "if  it 
were  as  you  say,  our  German  monk  here  would  also  be  satisfied. 
And  still  he  quarrels  with  me  !  " 

Brother  Martin  stood  silently  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of 
the  drawing  of  Galatea. 

"I  quarrel  with  you  because,"  he  now  said,  "in  spite  of  all 
this  worthy  bishop  says  about  Christianity,  you  do  not  serve  God. 
There  is  nothing  of  doctrine  in  your  works.  Doctrine,  however,  is 
our  spirit-sun.  What  help  is  it  to  me  that  from  this  sun  you  let  fall,, 
perhaps,  a  little  light  upon  your  works,  a  little  warmth,  perhaps, 
upon  your  forms.  Paint  the  sun  itself  as  it  rises  upon  the  world  and 
gives  it  light !  " 

"The  monks,"  answered  Raphael,  smiling,  "  have  made  too  much 
dust  and  ugly  clouds  before  the  sun ;  one  sees  it  no  more." 

"And  if  we  poor,  much-chided  monks  again  removed  this  dust  and 
clouds,  would  you  then  paint  it  ? "  asked  Brother  Martin,  as  if 
low-spirited. 

"  Yes  ;  give  to  your  doctrine,  which  is  now  nothing  but  the  dress- 
ing of  thoughtless  men,  again  its  soul  ;  make  of  it  the  doctrine 
of  love,  which  reconciles  and  blends  the  human  with  the  Divine,  from 
the  oneness  of  the  human  with  the  Divine  through  love,  and  I  will 
paint  for  you  pictures  for  this  new  doctrine.  I  will  no  more 
paint  for  you  merely  the  beautiful  thought-world,  but  pictures 
wherein  earth  and  the  other  world  shall  meet :  the  Madonna  who  is 
the  woman  and  still  also  Heaven's  queen ;  the  Transfiguration, 
which,  through  the  mortal  body  of  Christ,  lets  his  heavenly  nature 
shine  through  ;  God  the  Father,  himself  a  man  like  Jove,  and  yet 
the  eternal  spirit  of  the  world,  the  All-Merciful.  Zeal  and  in- 
clination for  such  figures  shall  not  be  wanting  in  me ;  you  only  take 
care  that  your  sun,  over  which  you  have  hung  so  many  '  holy  Pas- 
sion week  napkins,  and  Swiss  kerchiefs  of  Veronica  '  and  other 
patchwork  become  clean  and  bright,  so  that  I  can  see  it  through 
your  doctrine." 

"Then,"  said  Brother  Martin,  smiling  ironically,  and  still  yet  with 
a  sigh,  "  we  must  truly  already  take  heart  and  see,  let  what  will  be, 


SISTINE   MADONNA.     (RAHIAEL.) 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  149 

the  patchwork  torn  away  and  clouds  driven  off  which  obscure  the 
sun  from  you." 

"And  so,"  interposed  the  Bishop  of  Ragusa,  jestingly  laying  his 
hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  monk,  "  will  this  our  learned  speech 
have  still  the  effect  that  you,  my  zealous  brother,  return  into  your 
wrong-headed  and  strife-loving  Germany,  and  there  begin  a  great 
cloud-chasing,  a  great  dusting-off  and  cleaning-up  in  the  church, 
only  therewith  that  Master  Santi  can  paint  here  more  pious  and 
mystical  pictures ;  and  when  you  from  the  sun  have  torn  away  the 
patchwork,  and  have  again  brought  forth  the  Word  of  God  pure,  and 
the  world  has  taken  a  revolution  to  Christian  and  purified  doctrine, 
Master  Santi  will  paint  for  you  pictures  such  as  the  world  has  never 
seen,  —  this  world  illuminated  by  the  world  beyond  ;  the  world  be- 
yond plastically  become  this  !  That  will  indeed  be  very  beautiful  and 
edifying ;  still,  I  advise  you  in  your  church-cleansing  not  to  whirl  off 
too  much  dust.  You  might  get  much  to  swallow  —  much,  even  to 
suffocation." 

"  You  jest,"  responded  Brother  Martin,  throwing  his  hands  over  his 
breast,  and  directing  his  fiery  eye  upon  Raphael.  "  To  me,  however, 
comes  in  earnest  the  feeling  that  a  pair  of  righteous  men  could  lend 
great  service  to  the  world  of  to-day.  The  world  of  to-day  needs 
men  ;  in  truth  it  needs  them  !  " 

Tommaso  Inghirami  listened  no  more  to  these  excitedly  uttered 
words,  even  so  little  was  he  aware  what  feeling  would  be  produced 
by  his  jestingly  outspoken  words.  For  how  the  simple  Brother 
Martin,  who  stood  before  him  there,  would  go  home  over  the  Alps 
in  order  indeed  to  lend  the  world  a  "  great  service,"  he  could  not 
foresee.  He  could  not  foresee  how  this  service,  the  leading  back  of 
the  world  to  a  deeper  and  more  sincere  laying  hold  upon  the  doc- 
trine of  Christianity,  the  whole  revolution  in  feeling  and  thought  so 
soon  following  even  in  Italy  upon  that  "service,"  would  work  upon 
the  great  Master  von  Urbino,  whose  turning  to  the  visionary,  to  the 
transfigurations,  to  works  such  as  the  Sistine  Madonna,  the  Vision 
of  Ezekiel,  the  Saint  Cecilia,  the  Spasimo  di  Sicilia,  and  the  like, 
yet  indeed  stand  in  inner  connection  with  the  new  world-current  into 
which  Luther  led  the  souls  of  men ;  with  those  analogies  of  Protest- 
antism which,  at  the  same  time,  led  Sannazar  to  write  a  poem  "de 
partu  virginis"  and  the  most  celebrated  humanists,  as  Bembo,  Sadolet, 
Contarini,  a  brotherhood,  to  compose  an  "Oratorio  del  divono  amore" 
to  which,  perhaps,  Raphael  himself  also  belonged  ;  so  that  one  could 


150  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

say    Raphael    had    been    a   pagan,    and   had    become    a    Protestant 
Christian. 

Tommaso  Inghirami,  as  has  been  said,  had  heard  nothing  more  of 
Brother  Martin's  answer  ;  he  had  just  turned  around  and  taken  his 
gold-adorned  hat  to  depart,  when  Margarita  stepped  into  the  studio, 
accompanied  by  a  young  maiden  of  foreign  appearance,  who  carried 
a  paper  in  her  hand. 

"  The  maiden  will  not  allow  herself  restrained  from  intruding  upon 
you,  signori,"  said  the  'Fornarina;'  "  she  asserts  she  has  something 
important  to  communicate  to  one  of  the  gentlemen,  and  to  deliver  to 
him  a  letter  which  admits  of  no  delay." 

"  Pardon  that  I  intrude,"  said,  in  her  German-accented  Italian,  the 
apparently  heated  and  excited  young  maiden,  who  was  no  other  than 
Irmgard  ;  "I  have  a  letter  for  Brother  Martin.  You  must  be  he," 
she  added,  approaching  nearer  the  latter.  "  Here  is  the  letter  ;  it 
comes  from  Count  Egino  von  Ortenburg  ;  it  was  brought  by  his 
order  to  his  lodgings,  and  was  to  be  quickly  forwarded.  That 
appears  alarming  to  me  ;  the  letter  certainly  contains  nothing  good  ; 
I  pray  you  read  it, —  read  it  !  " 

Brother  Martin  looked  at  the  young  maiden  a  little  surprised  that 
she  held  out  to  him  the  writing  in  such  urgent  haste  ;  then  he  took 
the  letter,  opened  and  read  it  hastily,  while  Irmgard  anxiously 
studied  his  features. 

"There  is  strange  information  in  the  letter,"  said  Brother  Martin. 
"  Count  Egino  has  encountered  a  wonderful  adventure ;  he  has  with- 
drawn himself  into  a  cloister,  and  in  its  neighborhood  has  found  — 
well,  we  will  say,  he  has  unexpectedly  found  a  great  treasure,  a 
royal  jewel  of  the  olden  time,  of  which  men  have  ceased  to  think.  I 
shall  come  at  once  to  see  him,  to  pay  my  respects  to  this  treas- 
ure, and  to  him  with  it." 

"And  that  —  that  is  all?"  said  Irmgard,  gasping  between  the 
words. 

"All  ?     Is  it  not  enough  ?" 

"  I  only  thought  there  might  some  accident  have  befallen  him,  — 
he  might  have  fallen  among  wicked  men." 

"  Nothing  of  that,  my  child,  is  in  the  letter,  and  you  may  calm 
yourself,"  answered  Brother  Martin.  "  How  was  it  possible  to  you 
to  find  me  out  here  ?  " 

"  In  your  cloister  they  told  me  you  had  gone  to  the  library  of  the 
Pope  ;  and  when  I  searched  this  out,  and  knocked  at  the  door,  a 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  151 

servant  opened  it  for  me  who  told  me  that  a  German  brother  such  as 
I  was  seeking  had  gone  out  with  the  Bishop  von  Ragusa,  and 
that  the  latter  had  left  word  he  was  going  to  Master  Raphael  Santi. 
So  I  inquired  my  way  here." 

"  You  have  also  made  your  way  through  difficulties  in  your  care 
for  this  young  Count  von  Ortenburg,"  replied  Brother  Martin,  look- 
ing fixedly  upon  her. 

While  she  blushed  more  deeply  at  this  glance,  Raphael  laid  his 
hand  gently  upon  her  shoulder. 

"And  since  you  have  now  become  calm,  young  lady,  let  me  look 
once  into  your  eyes  !  " 

"What  do  you  wish  of  me?"  answered  Irmgard,  almost  harshly, 
turning  toward  the  painter,  who  was  viewing  her  sharply,  and,  as  it 
seemed  to  her,  impertinently. 

"You  must  know,"  replied  Raphael,  smiling,  "you  have  here 
fallen  into  something  like  a  lion's  den,  out  of  which  a  creature 
formed  by  nature  as  you  are,  and  who  has  such  a  countenance  as 
yours,  will  not  escape  again  so  quickly.  I  will  send  away  these  two 
worthy  gentlemen  and  keep  you  with  me.". 

Irmgard  stepped  back  alarmed,  and  exclaimed  angrily :- — 

"That  is  a  wicked  jest  which  you  allow  yourself." 

"No  jest,  for  I  wish  to  draw  your  portrait!  Where  could  I  find 
again,  indeed,  such  a  graceful  copy  of  blonde  German  maidenhood  ? 
Are  you  now  appeased  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  come  to  have  my  portrait  drawn  ! "  answered  Irmgard 
proudly,  and  with  irritation. 

Raphael  and  Tommaso  Inghirami  laughed. 

"And  why  not  ?"  exclaimed  the  latter.  "You  must  know,  proud 
and  coy  maiden,  that  princesses  and  cardinals  are  vain  of  becoming 
drawn  by  this  master,  and  of  being  immortalized  upon  his  tablets." 

"And  I,"  said  Irmgard,  "am  much  too  little  vain  to  wish  to  take 
a  place  among  such  distinguished  persons,  even  upon  the  tablets  of 
this  master." 

"You  will  not  do  it  in  truth,"  exclaimed  Raphael,  "even  if  I 
tell  you  that  I  wish  it  ?  that  I  will  be  thankful  for  it  ?  that  I  will 
reward  you  for  it  with  whatever  you  ask  ? " 

Irmgard  shook  her  head  very  energetically,  and  turning  to  Brother 
Martin,  said  :  — 

"I  know  the  way  to  the  Count  von  Ortenburg.  If  you  wish  to  be 
Jed  by  me,  worthy  brother,  I  am  ready ;  I  would  like  to  go." 


152  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"You  will  go,"  asked  Tommaso  Inghirami,  "  before  you  have  even 
looked  around  in  this  room, —  have  even  thrown  one  glance  upon  these 
drawings,  upon  these  works  ?  Do  you  know  in  what  man's  house 
you  are  ? " 

"In  a  painter's  house, —  and  it  is  not  the  first  time,"  answered 
Irmgard,  coolly.  "At  home,  in  Ulm,  such  a  painter  was  our  neigh- 
bor. I  saw  very  often  his  productions  with  the  colors  and  the 
brushes,  when  he  painted  saints  for  the  stations  in  the  church,  or 
white  horses  and  golden  lions  for  the  signs  for  inns." 

The  three  men  laughed  heartily. 

"You  see  how  inexorable  she  is,  and  you  must  let  her  go  now 
with  me,"  said  Brother  Martin. 

Then  he  took  leave  of  the  bishop,  and  with  a  warm  pressure  of  the 
the  hand  also  of  the  master,  and  departed  with  the  young  maiden,, 
who  undertook  his  guidance. 

"Now  you  see  the  artist's  reward,  Monsignore  Phadra,"  exclaimed 
Raphael,  when  they  had  gone  out,  sighing  audibly.  "  To  this  monk 
all  my  work  is  a  vexation,  because  I  do  not  paint  in  an  orthodox 
style;  and  this  maid  throws  me  in  with  her  neighbor,  who  paints 
sign-boards  for  inns !  Is  it  not  discouraging  ?  Truly  I  will  beg  of 
you  to  go  to  our  Holy  Father  and  ask  him  whether  there  is  anywhere 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Ragusa  a  bishopric  with  which  he  could 
provide  for  me  !  " 

"  Why  not  ? "  answered  Monsignore  Phadra  ;  "  a  man  such  as  you 
deserves  not  only  a  bishopric,  but  even  a  cardinal's  hat." 

"I  am  satisfied  with  less,"  responded  the  painter,  smiling;  "and 
if  you  obtain  it  for  me,  I  will  turn  over  to  you  as  a  reward  the  first 
beautiful  work  of  art  which  I  discover  in  our  excavations." 

"That  would  be  a  transaction  !  "  interposed  Inghirami,  laughing  ; 
"some  beautiful  Venus,  Diana,  or  Leda  for  a  cardinal's  hat." 

"  I  am  in  earnest,"  continued  Raphael,  likewise  smiling.  "  I  shall 
in  a  few  days  have  excavations  begun  in  a  yet  unsearched  place,  and 
hope  to  find  there  wonderful  things." 

"  Ah  !  remain  in  your  place  of  work,  Master,"  said  the  bishop,  pre- 
paring to  leave;  "and  even  if  it  were  only  sign-boards  which  you 
painted,  you  would  be  happier  there  than  if  you  should  go  about  in 
a  violet  or  red  coat  and  do  nothing.  There  is  no  more  bitter  labor 
than  enjoyment  which  becomes  labor.  Besides,  you  must  hold  your 
brush  in  readiness  to  redeem  your  word  to  this  German  monk ;  for 
perhaps,  like  a  wonder-worker,  will  he  redeem  his.  The  man  has  in. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  153 

his  eye  something  which  reminds  me  of  the  great  Girolamo,  only  it  is 
brighter  ;  one  does  not  feel  afraid  in  its  presence.  And  now  fare- 
well, dear  Master.  Have  you  heard  the  latest  court  news  —  that 
Fabricio  Colonna,  the  brave  commander-in-chief,  who  was  once  Al- 
fonso von  Ferrara's  prisoner  of  war,  and  in  this  imprisonment  became 
his  friend,  has  effected  a  peace  between  Alfonso  and  Our  Holiness, 
and  Alfonso  will  appear  at  our  court  ? " 

"  I  heard  it,  and  rejoice  to  be  able  to  greet  the  art-loving  duke 
here  and  do  homage  to  him  !  Perhaps,  also,  is  Messer  Ludovico 
Ariosto  in  his  retinue." 

"  Hardly,"  interposed  the  bishop,  smiling.  "  Messer  Ludovico  has 
once  succeeded  in  beholding  the  countenance  of  our  Holy  Father 
and  does  not  desire  it  the  second  time  !  " 

"  Indeed  ;    I  forgot  that,"  replied  Raphael,  lightly,  laughing  aloud. 

"  Now  good-bye,  beloved  friend,"  said  Monsignore  Phadra,  and  he 
reached  Raphael  his  hand  as  leave-taking. 


CHAPTER   V. 

BROTHER   MARTIN'S   RESOLUTION. 

HALF-HOUR  later,  Irmgard  and  Brother  Martin  had 
reached  the  heights  of  the  Aventine.  When  they  had 
arrived  in  front  of  the  Cloister  von  Santa  Sabina,  Irm- 
gard, wh'o  was  to-day  in  her  maiden-garb,  had  to  remain 
behind,  and  Brother  Martin  reached  to  her  the  hand  while  he 
said  :  — 

"  And  now  I  thank  you,  my  friendly  guide.  There  is  the  door  of 
the  cloister,  and  I  need  you  no  more." 

Irmgard,  however,  remained  where  she  stood. 

"  I  will  first  see  whether  or  not  they  let  you  in,"  she  replied. 

Brother  Martin  rang  at  the  cloister  door;  a  slide  opened  on  the  in- 
side, and  the  countenance  of  the  porter  became  visible.  When  the 
latter  espied  a  monk,  without  questioning  he  opened  one  shutter  of 
the  door.  Irmgard  was  just  ready  to  turn  and  go,  since  she  saw 
Brother  Martin  step  over  the  threshold,  when  she  heard  him  utter  a 
few  loud  words,  and  immediately  perceived,  as  she  stepped  back, 
how  the  shutter  of  the  door  just  now  opened  for  him  was  again 
so  quickly  shut  upon  him  that  he  was  plainly  pushed  out. 

She  hastened  to  him. 

Brother  Martin  exclaimed,  coming  to  meet  her  :  — 

"But  Count  Egino  is  no  longer  in  this  cloister." 

"  He  is  no  longer  there  ? " 

"  No ;  the  brother  porter  says  he  has  already  departed  this  morn- 
ing." 

"That  cannot  be." 

"  The  brother  says  so,  and  pushed  me  out  rather  crossly." 

"Count  Egino  himself  sent  this  letter  to  his  residence,  wherein  he 
has  invited  you,  as  you  say,  to  come  to  him  at  this  hour  —  here,  in 
this  cloister;  so  it  stands  in  the  letter?" 

"  In  the  letter  it  stands  so." 

'54 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  155 

"And  now  should  he  be  gone?     Impossible." 

"  Who  knows  what  has  caused  him  to  do  it !  "  responded  Brother 
Martin. 

"It  is  certainly,  certainly  not  so,  '  remarked  Irmgard,  disquieted. 
"  Oh  !  I  beg  you  ask  this  porter  again,  once  more.  Say  to  him " 

"My  child,"  replied  the  German  monk,  "I  have  not  the  least 
desire  to  do  that ;  this  brother  porter  is  brutal  as  Cerberus,  and 
gave  his  information  with  an  irritated  definiteness." 

"Then  there  is  nothing  left  us  but  that  we  hasten  to  the  dwelling 
of  the  count,  to  seek  him  there.  I  beg  of  you  to  go  down  there  with 
me  ;  it  is  on  your  way." 

"I  will  go  down  with  you,"  answered  Brother  Martin,  "just  for 
the  purpose  of  seeing  you  quieted,  for  it  is  evident  that  you  have 
a  needless  anxiety  about  him." 

"  I  have  an  anxiety  about  him,  and  I  have  grounds  for  this  anx- 
iety;  for,  to  confess  to  you — but  come,  let  us  hasten." 

Irmgard  stepped  quickly  forward,  and  in  going  she  confessed  to 
the  young  monk  with  her,  who  had  on  the  way  hither  already  com- 
pletely won  Irmgard's  confidence,  exactly  what  had  led  Egino  into 
the  cloister,  and  what  dangers  might  threaten  him  there  in  case  he 
should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Savelli. 

Brother  Martin  had  listened  to  her  highly  perplexed.  Excited,  he 
exclaimed  :  — 

"That  is  a  very  wonderful  story  which  you  relate  to  me.  In  the 
letter  of  the  young  count,  all  that  is  only  indicated  with  some 
mysterious  words,  which  I  now  understand  ;  but  you  yourself, —  how 
is  it  you  know  all  that  so  exactly  ?  " 

Blushing,  Irmgard  also  gave*  answer  to  that  :  how  Egino  had  found 
them  and  received  them  here  in  this  strange  land  as  fellow-country- 
men ;  how  he  finally  let  her  entirely  into  his  secret ;  indeed,  less,  she 
added,  blushing  again,  out  of  confidence  in  her  and  in  the  supposi- 
tion that  she  could  be  useful  to  him  and  help  him,  than  because  he 
had  the  need  to  utter  what  was  passing  in  him  and  so  oppressed 
him. 

Brother  Martin  nodded. 

"  It  may  be  so.  It  is  also  good,  my  child,  that  you  so  comprehend 
it ;  you  may  also  yet  be  able  to  help  and  be  useful  to  him  in  his  con- 
dition if  he  should  really  be  fallen  into  danger  and  embarrassment, 
which  does  not  now  seem  to  me  improbable.  He  has  even  played 
with  danger ;  the  Italian  cunning  is  capable  of  much  of  which  one 


i56  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

of  us  would  not  think ;  and  that  Brother  Cerberus  appeared  exactly 
as  if  he  gave  his  information  about  Count  Egino  with  a  bad,  though 
quiet  conscience,  as  Saint  Thomas  Aquinas  says.  God  shows  his 
power  most  willingly  through  a  weak  vessel,  and  so  we  will  hope 
that  we  can  do  something  to  rescue  this  poor"  youth  out  of  the 
danger  into  which  he  may  have  fallen,  if  he  has  acted  without 
foresight  as  a  right  unreflecting  young  blood.  Yet  let  care  go,  so 
long  as  we  have  hope  to  find  him  again.  Perhaps  he  will  come 
forward,  well  preserved,  to  meet  us  on  the  threshold  of  his  dwell- 
ing, in  a  few  minutes." 

They  finally  reached  the  lodgings  ;  but  Brother  Martin's  hope  was 
not  to  be  realized.  They  heard  some  one  ascending  the  stairway  to 
Egino's  chambers,  a  sound  of  voices  in  conversation  above,  and  soon 
saw  upon  the  landing  the  faithful  Gotz  standing  with  a  stranger, 
to  whom  with  great  effort  he  sought  to  make  himself  intelligible  in 
his  broken  Italian.  Irmgard  knew  the  stranger ;  she  had  seen  him 
out  in  the  villa  with  the  " parva  domus."  It  was  Signer  Callisto 
Minucci. 

"  The  gentleman  asked  for  the  count,"  exclaimed  the  servant 
in  German,  when  he  caught  sight  of  Irmgard.  "I  cannot  understand 
him  ;  see  if  you  will  get  on  better  with  him.  He  appears  to  be 
in  distress  about  my  master." 

Irmgard  addressed  Minucci  in  Italian.     The  latter  answered  :  — 

"  I  see  that  you  can  serve  as  interpreter,  and  that  happens 
fortunately.  I  would  like  to  speak  with  the  Count  Ortenburg, 
whose  servant,  however,  says  to  me  his  master  is  not  at  home, 
and  that  he  is  in  the  cloister  Santa  Sabina ;  but  I  cannot  under- 
stand what  in  all  the  world  can  have  led  him  thither." 

"  So  the  young  man  is,  in  truth,  not  here  ? "  said  Brother  Martin. 

"You  see,"  said  Irmgard,  "I  had  only  too  much  right  to  be 
alarmed.  Let  us  walk  into  the  gentleman's  room,  Gotz,"  she  then 
turned  to  the  servant,  "that  we  may  be  able  to  talk^at  leisure  about 
what  to  do  now." 

Gotz  opened  the  sitting-room  of  his  master  before  them,  and 
all  four  entered. 

Signer  Callisto  dropped  upon  a  chair,  and  turning  to  Irmgard, 
he  said  :  — 

"  You  are  the  young  German  maiden  whom  the  count  brought  to 
my  wife.  And  you?"  he  added,  looking  at  Brother  Martin. 

"A  German  monk,  who  has  come  with  me  on  account  of  anxiety 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  157 

about  the  count,  whose  friend  he  is,"  replied  Irmgard,  quickly  inter- 
posing. "  I  pray  you  tell  us  what  brought  you  here,  for  you  see  we 
are  troubled  about  the  fate  of  the  count." 

"  So  am  I,"  replied  Signor  Callisto  ;  "  uneasiness  about  him  has 
brought  me  here.  You  must  know  that  Count  Egino,  a  short  time 
since,  accompanied  me  to  serve  as  witness  at  a  marriage " 

"  Oh !  we  know  that,  signer,  we  know  that ;  I  pray  you  go  on," 
said  Irmgard,  interrupting  him. 

"  Well,  then,  you  will  comprehend  my  uneasiness,"  continued  Sig- 
nor Callisto,  "when  I  tell  you  that  this  morning  I  saw  suddenly 
appear  at  my  villa,  out  yonder,  no  less  a  personage  than  the  Duke  of 
Aricia.  He  stopped  on  horseback  at  the  steps  which  lead  up  to  my 
residence  out  of  the  garden." 

"'Signor  Minucci,'  he  said,  when  I  appeared  at  his  call  above 
him,  on  the  terrace,  'only  stay  up  there,  and  do  not  invite  me  to  dis- 
mount and  walk  into  your  dwelling,  for  I  have  not  the  time  for  that, 
because  I  am  on  my  way  to  the  Prima  Porta.  In  passing  by  your 
villa  a  thought  struck  me,  which  caused  me  thus  to  startle  you  from 
your  work.  Tell  me,  then,  who  was  the  young  man  recently  accom- 
panying you  —  at  the  marriage  of  my  Luca,  you  know  —  whom  you 
introduced  as  your  pupil  ? ' 

"  I  communicated  to  him,"  continued  Signor  Callisto  in  his  narra- 
tion, "  the  desired  information.  He  inquired  then  about  his  native 
place,  about  the  relations  of  the  young  man,  about  the  standing  of 
his  house  in  Germany,  about  their  possessions  and  influence.  When 
I  had  given  to  all  this  such  an  answer  as  I  was  able,  I  asked  him  : 
'  And  what  interest  does  Your  Excellency  take  in  all  this  ? ' 

"  '  Only  an  accidental  and  quite  superficial  one,  my  dearest  Signor 
Legista,'  responded  the  duke.  'The  young  man  is  in  the  cloister 
of  the  Dominicans,  with  my  pious  neighbors  of  the  Aventine,  and 
has  requested  to  practice  exercises  there.  The  good  monks,  how- 
ever, have  not  discovered  much  piety  in  him,  and  do  not  know 
exactly  what  to  do  with  him  ;  whether  it  is  more  advisable  to  attack 
his  heretical  tendencies  with  their  moral  thumb-screws,  or  his  body 
with  their  iron  ones  —  or  to  let  him  run.  The  prior  has  accidentally 
communicated  that  to  me  this  morning  in  a  conversation  ;  and  since 
I,  without  that,  was  passing  by  your  residence  here,  I  promised  him 
to  obtain  from  you  information  concerning  the  German  youth.  I 
thank  you  for  this,  Signor  Minucci,  and  commend  you  to  the  pro- 
tection of  the  Madonna.  Good-bye  !  You  see  if  I  do  not  now  give 


158  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

rein  to  my  horse,  turning  like  a  top  here,  he  will  tramp  up  the  sod 
and  Donna  Ottavia's  flower-beds  ;  besides,  my  people  await  me  out 
there  on  the  street.' 

"With  a  wave  of  the  hand  the  duke  rode  away,  as  if  he  were  de- 
sirous to  avoid  a  further  conversation. 

"  He  left  me  so  much  the  more  uneasy,"  continued  Signer 
Callisto,  "because  I  could  not  deceive  myself  into  believing  that  he 
would  have  come  into  my  villa  without  quite  a  different  interest  in 
our  young  friend,  and  that  the  secretiveness  with  which  he  denied  it, 
and  represented  himself  as  merely  the  messenger  of  the  monks, 
could  betoken  nothing  good." 

The  narration  of  the  lawyer  could  only  increase  the  anxiety  of 
Egino's  assembled  friends  to  the  most  painful  height.  They  con- 
versed and  deliberated  a  long  time  about  what  would  be  best  to  do, 
and  each  took  upon  himself  to  follow  up  most  zealously  the  means 
and  ways  by  which  he  would  be  in  a  situation  to  find  out  what  had 
become  of  Egino.  Signer  Callisto,  who  knew  the'  body-servants  of 
both  Savelli,  of  the  father  as  well  as  of  the  son,  and  besides  these 
Sor  Antonio  and  Sor  Giovanni  Battista,  still  other  dependents  of  the 
house,  would  seek  to  get  something  out  of  them.  Irmgard  should 
take  Gotz  with  her  as  a  protection,  and  try  to  find  out  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Santa  Sabina  whether  any  one  had  seen  Egino  leaving 
the  cloister.  Brother  Martin  should,  if  possible,  through  his  order- 
brethren  of  Santa  Maria  del  Popolo,  obtain  information  concerning 
the  monks  of  St.  Dominicus.  Also,  so  soon  as  they  should  have 
news  of  Egino,  they  would  turn  to  Father  Anselmo  and  beg  his 
intercession  with  the  Pope :  for  that,  however,  they  of  course 
needed  beforehand  more  definite  points  of  information  about  Egino's 
fate.  If  they  should  wish  to  present  a  request  to  this  exalted  per- 
sonage, they  must  be  able  to  carry  something  definite  and  reliably 
positive.  They  determined  on  the  next  day,  at  the  same  hour,  to 
come  here  again  to  Egino's  dwelling,  in  order  to  report  what  they 
had  accomplished. 

Irmgard  was  so  entirely  unnerved  and  thrown  out  of  balance  that 
she  had  taken  very  little  part  in  this  whole  conversation.  She  had 
only  looked  with  her  great  frightened  eyes  from  one  speaker  to  the 
other. 

The  men  left.  Gotz  accompanied  them  out,  and  then  hastened 
to  his  room,  to  make  ready  to  go  out  as  a  companion  of  Irmgard. 
The  latter  had  remained  sitting  still  and  unmoved  in  her  place ;  she 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  159 

stared  with  ashen  face  upon  the  mats  which  covered  the  floor  at  her 
feet. 

The  door  opened  again,  and  Brother  Martin  came  forward,  having 
turned  ^back  once  more.  He  came  quickly  to  her,  and  laying  his 
hand  upon  her  shoulder,  he  said :  — 

"Irmgard,  poor  child,  I  saw  how  troubled  you  are " 

"  Have  I  not  every  cause  to  be  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  suddenly  burst- 
ing into  tears  ;  "was  it  not  I  who  gave  him  the  advice  ? " 

"  Console  yourself ;  what  depends  upon  your  advice, —  upon  the 
advice  of  a  girl,  of  a  child  ?  The  count  must  have  known  what  he 
did  :  console  yourself ;  commit  it  to  God,  who  watches  over  us  all, 
and  trust  that  we  shall  find  him  again.  Signor  Callisto  said  just 
now,  as  we  were  stepping  out  on  the  street,  that  he  is  invited  to 
a  feast  at  which  the  Duke  of  Aricia  will  take  part.  He  can  intro- 
duce me  there ;  and  I,  although  it  will  be  little  appropriate  for  one 
of  my  cloth  to  be  seen  there,  will,  nevertheless,  go.  It  is,  indeed,  not 
contrary  to  the  custom  here,  that  a  monk,  a  priest,  appear  at  the 
luxurious  feasts  of  the  reveling  children  of  the  world.  I  will  go  for 
the  sake  of  the  missing  friend,  and  a  little,  also,  for  your  sake, 
because  I  desire  to  see  you  quieted,  Irmgard." 

"Oh!  how  good  you  are,  Brother  Martin,"  broke  in  Irmgard. 
"Count  Egino  has  not  celebrated  in  vain  your  noble  spirit." 

"  Has  he  ?  "  replied  Brother  Martin,  smiling.  "  I  shall,  alas  !  not 
be  able  to  reward  him  to-day  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  I  shall  be  obliged 
to  say  of  him  a  good  deal  that  is  bad " 

"  Bad  ?     You  ?     Wherefore  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  understand  ?  Upon  that  rests  my  plan.  Did  I  not 
say  to  you  the  Duke  of  Aricia  will  come  to  the  feast  ?  " 

"  Certainly  ;  and  will  you  say  to  him  something  bad  of  Count 
Egino?  Oh!  I  understand, — you  are  here  as  his  opponent;  you 
carry  on  against  him  a  contest  at  the  court  of  justice " 

"So  it  is,"  interposed  Brother  Martin,  "just  that.  I  will  seek  to 
approach  this  duke ;  I  will  say  to  him  that  I  have  learned  how  he 
was  asking  information  about  my  antagonist ;  I  will  make  it  count 
that  I  am  his  countryman  and  his  opponent.  Do  you  not  believe 
the  duke  will  then  see  in  me  a  man  toward  whom  he  need  not  be  on 
his  guard  ?  that  I  will,  at  least,  entrap  him  into  indicating  what  has 
become  of  Egino  ?  Besides,  in  the  excitement  of  such  a  feast,  when 
wine  opens  the  heart  and  makes  the  lips  voluble,  it  must  be  very 


i6o  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

imskillfully  managed  by  me,  or  I  must  have  great  ill  luck,  if  I  do  not 
succeed." 

"  Oh !  certainly,  certainly,"  exclaimed  Irmgard,  the  color  com- 
ing again  to  her  cheeks  with  hope  and  joy.  "You  have  foynd  out 
the  best  way,  and  that  you  will  go  in  it  is  so  much  the  more  noble 
in  you,  because  it  will  be  hard  for  you  to  go  in  a  way  costing  you 
cunning  and  dissimulation." 

"You  are  right,"  responded  Brother  Martin;  "but  we  cannot  do 
otherwise.  I  console  myself,  when  I  commit  such  a  sin  of  necessity, 
through  the  likeness  of  the  Master,  which  allows  me  even  to  work 
on  Sunday  if  I  do  it  to  save  the  poor  animal  fallen  into  the  ditch  ; 
and  through  that  other  which  permits  me  to  take  the  ears  of  corn 
of  my  neighbor  if  I  am  hungered.  And  so  God  protect  you,  my 
dear  countrywoman.  I  hope  to  be  able  soon  to  bring"  you  con- 
solation." 

He  gave  her  his  hand,  and  departed ;  immediately  afterward  Gotz 
came  to  accompany  Irmgard. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

CINQUE  — CENTO. 

—  dando  11011  deficit;    umiin 
Hoc  sat  habet,  si  se  scit  retinere  sibi. 

— J.  C.  SCALIGER,  about  Augustin  Chigi. 

HE  feast  to  which  Callisto  promised  to  conduct  Brother 
Martin  took  place  in  a  house  which  lay  on  the  other  side 
of  the  Tiber,  and  not  far  from  the  Cloister  von  Sant  Onu- 
phrio,  about  where,  at  present,  along  the  Strasse  Longara, 
the  Botanical  Gardens  spread  out  at  the  foot  of  Monte  Janiculo, 
shaded  by  the  precipitous,  wooded  bluff  of  the  latter. 

The  house  was  not  large,  and  although  it  had  a  portal  adorned 
with  an  old  coat-of-arms,  was  scarcely  to  be  called  by  the  name  of  a 
palace,  to  which  the  coat-of-arms  and  portal  formerly  gave  a  house 
the  right.  It  stood  alone  :  high  walls  separated  its  surroundings 
right  and  left  from  the  street,  and  green  treetops  extending  above 
these  walls  showed  that  it  lay  upon  an  extensive  garden ;  and,  in- 
deed, this  garden  was  its  chief  distinction. 

One  passed  through  the  portal  into  a  stair-cased  hall,  and  from 
the  first  landing  of  the  broad  stairway  leading  upward  in  the  back- 
ground of  this  hall,  into  a  dimly  lighted  vestibule.  From  this,  one 
entered  into  a  great  festal  parlor,  with  paneled,  artistic  ceiling  of 
wood  and  walls  which  showed  mythological  designs  painted  a  tem- 
pera. Out  of  this,  one  stepped  into  a  garden  ;  next  upon  a  broad, 
marble-paved  terrace,  upon  which  benches  and  tables  along  the  wall 
of  the  house  invited  to  sit  down  ;  while  upon  a  balustade  inclosing 
the  garden,  and  sustained  by  a  pillared  elevation,  were  displayed 
beautifully  chiseled  busts  of  celebrated  men  of  antiquity  and  of 
Roman  emperors,  with  whose  names,  such  as  those  of  Marcus  Aure- 
lius,  of  Trajan,  of  Antoninus  Pius,  and  of  Titus,  are  connected 
thoughts  of  human  culture. 

161 


1 62  .  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

From  the  terrace  led  very  broad,  low  steps,  scarcely  perceptible 
to  those  going  down  into  the  carefully  tended  garden  with  its  dark 
evergreen  hedge,  upon  whose  background  gleamed  forth  the  white 
statues  of  Mercury.  A  marble  statue  arose  here  at  the  end  of  every 
sidewalk,  —  an  image  of  still  and  chaste  beauty  in  the  umbrageous, 
luxurious  world  of  plants. 

Opposite  to  the  terrace  steps  leading  down  into  the  garden,  at  the 
end  of  the  broad  middle-walk,  was  presented  a  decorated  wall  higher 
than  a  man's  head,  constructed  in  a  semi-circle  with  a  vase-crowned 
balustrade  above  it.  A  round  basin  was  half  encircled  by  this  wall, 
and  in  it  a  fountain  with  distinct  murmur  threw  a  strong  column  of 
water  high  up  into  the  air.  Right  and  left  from  the  round  basin  of  the 
fountain  led  gently  winding  flights  of  steps  up  to  a  terrace  lying 
much  higher  than  the  first,  of  the  same  height  as  the  ornamental 
wall.  Its  breadth  lost  itself  in  the  forest,  which  here  arose  on  the 
side  of  the  mountain  with  a  close  undergrowth  and  magnificent  cork 
trees. 

Right  and  left  at  the  end  of  this  terrace  were  two  ornamental 
structures,  —  little  halls  or  pavilions,  open  in  front  and  supported  by 
pillars,  with  draperies  of  colored  material,  which  when  let  down 
formed  the  most  secret  hiding-places  out  of  these  little  graceful 
buildings. 

The  house  belonged  to  the  rich  Messer  Agostino  Chigi,  from 
Sienna,  as  they  said  ;  the  richest  merchant  of  Italy,  who  had  removed 
to  Rome  to  carry  on  his  extensive  traffic.  He  was  a  friend  of 
Raphael  and  Michael  Angelo  and  of  many  distinguished  men.  He 
was  the  same  Agostino  Chigi  for  whom  Baldassare  Peruzzi  built,, 
farther  down  on  the  bank  of  the  Tiber,  the  beautiful  villa  which  the 
Master  von  Urbino  had  mentioned  in  the  conversation  with  Brother 
Martin.  Until  its  completion,  Messer  Agostino  gave  here  his  luxu- 
rious and  celebrated  feasts,  at  which  he  knew  how  to  bring  together 
what  Rome  possessed  of  the  great  names  of  prominent  men  and 
women.  These  were  feasts  which  united  with  their  customs  many 
which,  justified  by  the  standards  of  the  time,  would  to-day  no  more 
be  called  the  elegance  of  the  gay  enjoyment  of  life,  but  often  licen- 
tious indulgence  and  riotous  wantonness.  Rome  did  not  possess 
that  which  Florence  and  Naples  possessed  in  their  academies,  —  those 
central  points  for  the  nurture  of  the  scientific  and  spiritual  interests 
of  the  time,  and  also  of  its  thought-power ;  but  Agostino  Chigi's 
house  presented  something  similar,  only  more  unrestrained,  —  more 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  163 

according  to  the  chance  of  who  might  be  at  home  there  when  he 
brought  his  guests  together. 

He  gave  his  feast  to-day  as  a  kind  of  farewell  for  many  of  his 
acquaintances  whom  the  approach  of  the  hot  season  drove  away 
from  Rome  to  their  seats  in  the  mountains  or  on  the  seashore. 

When  Brother  Martin,  at  the  side  of  Callisto,  entered  the  house, 
and  they  had  reached  the  already  darkening  anti-chamber  filled  with 
servants,  they  found  torches  stuck  upon  high,  bronze  candelabra,  of 
which  three  were  burning.  This  was  a  sign,  as  Callisto  explained  to 
his  companion,  that  three  cardinals,  or  Roman  princes,  would  honor 
the  feast  with  their  presence. 

A  garland  of  flowers  festooned  the  entrance-door  of  the  festal-hall, 
on  whose  posts  sonnets  were  nailed,  welcoming  poetic  greetings  for 
the  guests  ;  other  poems,  brought  by  friends  of  the  house,  they  found 
fastened  to  the  walls  of  the  banquet-hall  itself.  In  this  latter 
appeared  a  richly  covered  table,  set  with  artistically  wrought  sets  of 
plate,  flowers,  and  polished  vases,  rich  silver  mugs,  and  glittering 
things  of  every  kind  —  in  the  condition  it  is  wont  to  be  when' just 
left  by  the  guests.  The  host  had  invited  the  nearest  of  his  acquaint- 
ances and  friends  to  the  meal  ;  the  wider  circle  of  them,  however,  to 
which  Callisto  belonged,  to  the  Conversazione.  Therefore  the 
hall  was  already  well-nigh  deserted  by  all  the  guests  ;  the  whole  gay 
crowd  enlivened  the  terrace  before  it,  the  garden,  and  the  higher 
terrace  in  the  rear  of  the  garden. 

A  gay  crowd  it  was  indeed;  gay  through  the  rich,  luxuriously 
colored  garb  of  the  time,  whose  costume  now  began  to  supplant  the 
strongly  defined  mode  of  the  past  by  a  tendency  to  the  fantastic, 
which  created  the  most  various  and  the  most  picturesque  garments. 
It  is  often  incomprehensible  to  us  how  those  who  wore  these  gar- 
ments found  the  patience  and  the  time  to  put  on,  fasten  together, 
and  to  carry,  this  constraining  style, —  these  slit  and  puffed  waistcoats, 
these  rufHed  linens,  all  these  over-garments  with  flounces  of  lace  and 
ornaments  of  precious  stones  and  pearls.  Already  were  the  bluntly 
cut  off  shoes  not  left  unslit,  and  without  the  lining  of  colored  leather 
or  silk  pushing  through.  The  folded  coat,  with  its  broad,  thrown- 
back  collar,  was  not  without  the  addition  of  double  sleeves  hanging 
free  from  the  shoulder  or  the  elbow.  The  great  heavy  hats  were 
not  without  feathers,  clasps,  and  golden  chains,  which  bore  medall- 
ions. 

The  women,  whom  Brother  Martin  perceived  assembled  in  groups 


1 64  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

upon  the  terrace,  wore  the  hair  simply  parted  on  top  of  the  head  and 
bound  behind  under  gold-adorned  caps,  or  under  hats  ornamented 
with  feathers  and  pearls,  after  the  style  of  the  men's  hats  ;  or  else 
hanging  down  free  between  the  shoulders  in  wavy  curls  drawn  to- 
gether in  a  knot  below.  Over  broad-folded,  long  garments,  was 
thrown  the  camom,  a  broad,  loose-fitting  garment,  or  the  vesta,  a 
close-fitting  jacket  of  light  silken  stuff,  bordered  with  golden  fringe 
or  broad  guipure.  For  going  out  and  traveling,  the  sbernia  was. 
thrown  over  these,  made  out  of  darker  and  heaver  silk,  edged  with 
fur,  and  provided  with  very  long,  wide-open  sleeves.  Besides  all 
this,  there  was  a  great  predilection  for  ornament,  consisting  of  rich 
jewelry,  which  often  hung  down  in  the  form  of  strings  of  precious, 
stones  or  pearls  ;  with  some  ladies  present,  there  was  also  displayed 
a  taste  for  the  most  wonderful  gold  embroidery,  in  the  form  of  flowers,, 
animals,  and  the  signs  of  heaven. 

When  Brother  Martin  beheld  the  glittering  appointments  of  this 
house,  the  table  furnished  with  such  splendor  in  the  elegant  festal- 
hall  with  its  adornment  of  pictures,  and  then  cast  his  eyes  through 
the  open  window-casements  out  upon  the  terrace,  with  the  richly  and 
luxuriously  clad  women  and  men  upon  the  background  of  a  garden 
laid  out  so  charmingly  and  with  so  much  noble  and  pure  conception 
of  the  beautiful,  the  whole  made  upon  him  the  impression  of  an  en- 
chanting dream-world.  It  needed  not  the  soft  and  melting  tones  of 
music  sounding  above,  and  the  sound  of  fine  male  voices,  which  let 
itself  be  heard  from  one  side  of  the  terrace,  in  order  to  make  this 
impression  more  perfect.  Such  a  world  of  ideal  life  in  a  surrounding 
composed  of  purely  artistic  forms,  upon  which  the  splendor  of  an 
evening  sun  poured  in  golden  light  from  the  dark-blue  heaven,  over 
which  vibrated  the  tones  of  a  powerful  and  penetrating  voice,  now 
swelling  out,  now  softly  dying  away,  —  all  this  was  to  the  German 
pilgrim,  who  at  home  had  seen  nothing  much  worthy  of  mention  out- 
side of  the  narrow  cloister-cells  and  the  not  much  larger  bedrooms 
and  other  chambers  of  the  German  dwellings  or  of  the  small  castles, 
a  sight  which  filled  him  with  astonishment.  It  also  increased  the 
anxious  timidity  with  which  he  now  walked  by  Callisto's  side  among 
all  these  strange  men,  who  bore  so  much  wealth,  honor,  or  proud 
name — he  the  poor,  nameless  miner's  son,  in  the  white  gown  of  the 
hermit  monk. 

Callisto  led  him  to  the  master  of  the  house, —  a  small,  very  mercurial 
man,  who  was  now  standing  talking  vivaciously  to  a  still  younger  and 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  165 

handsomer  man  in  the  red  robes  of  a  cardinal.  The  latter  leaned 
indolently  back  upon  the  balustrade  of  the  terrace.  The  cardinal 
looked  down  haughtily  and  with  wandering  attention  upon  the  monk, 
while  Callisto  presented  him  to  the  master  of  the  house. 

"  Messer  Agostino,"  he  said,  "allow  me  to  introduce  to  you  a 
guest  who  causes  me  with  more  assurance  than  if  alone  to  enter 
your  noble  house,  the  meeting-place  of  so  many  learned  and  distin- 
guished men.  For  while  I  otherwise  feel  that  I  appear  indeed  poor 
and  ungifted  here  among  so  many  rich  and  honorable  guests,  I  know 
that  I  bring  you  to-day  something  in  the  person  of  this  friend,  a 
learned  German,  just  so  much  versed  in  the  writings  of  the  Old  World 
as  he  is  unversed,  indeed,  in  the  ways  of  the  Roman  world.  I  would 
not,  moreover,  let  him  return  home  without  having  learned  to  know 
you  and  your  house,  for  then  he  would  have  failed  'to  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  finest  bit  of  the  Roman  world." 

Messer  Agostino  Chigi,  coming  forward,  reached  Callisto  and  then 
Brother  Martin  the  hand,  and,  smiling,  said  to  the  latter  :  — 

"  You  are  welcome,  heartily  welcome.  What  you,  in  any  case, 
have  already  learned  to  know  of  Rome,  is  the  most  eloquent  of  all 
the  procurators  of  the  Rota ;  only,  Signer  Callisto,  you  should  not 
go  so  far  with  your  eloquence  as  to  shame  me,  and  to  awaken  ex- 
pectations in  your  friend  which  my  house  can  fulfill  only  when 
honored  with  guests  such  as  I  am  rejoiced  to  see  with  me  to-day." 

Messer  Agostino  at  this  made  a  slight  bow  to  the  cardinal,  who 
smilingly  turning  to  Brother  Martin,  said  :  — 

"  You  see  that  in  a  good  turn  of  speech,  Messer  Agostino  comes 
short  of  no  procurator  of  the  Rota." 

"I  see,"  replied  Brother  Martin,  "that  he  is  very  kind  to  receive 
the  uninvited  guest  with  so  much  good  will." 

Messer  Agostino  smiled  at  the  foreign  accent  with  which  Brother 
Martin  spoke  his  Italian  ;  and  while  the  cardinal  again  regarded  the 
monk  with  cold,  haughty  glance,  Agostino  said  to  Callisto  :  — 

"  You  must  now,  however,  take  it  upon  yourself  to  care  for  your 
friend's  comfort  and  refreshment,  also  his  entertainment,  and  to 
make  him  acquainted  with  men  with  whom  he  can  wish  to  come  in 
contact." 

Callisto  bowed  silently,  and  stepped  back  with  his  companion. 

They  went  to  take  their  places  upon  an  unoccupied  seat  behind 
a  little  table  which  was  laden  with  wine,  fruits,  and  loaves  of  bread. 
The  friendly  reception  of  the  host,  and  the  noticing  that  many  men 


1 66  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

in  church  garments  and  in  the  garb  of  the  orders  were  in  the  com- 
pany, had  relieved  Brother  Martin's  timidity;  which  had,  indeed,  been 
quite  uncalled  for,  as  he  saw  from  the  unrestrained  manner  in  which 
everything  was  carried  on,  and  in  which  every  one  moved  about. 

Callisto  filled  for  him  and  for  himself  a  pair  of  high  beakers  with 
wine,  and  said  :  — 

"  You  will  not  be  entirely  without  acquaintance  in  this  company, 
Brother  Martin  ;  I  see  there  now  Raphael  Santi  and  Monsignore 
Phadra ;  they  are  going  up  the  steps  yonder  on  one  side  of  the 
fountain." 

"You  are  right,"  interposed  Brother  Martin;  "but  who  is  the  tall 
man  near  them,  who  ascends  the  steps  with  such  heavy  strides  ? " 

"  Don't  you  know  him  ?  Every  child  in  Rome  knows  him,  and 
would  know  him  even  if  he  did  not  have  this  powerful  frame,  and  the 
ugly,  broad  nose  which  Torrigiani  mashed  for  him  when  a  boy.  It  is 
the  Florentine  Buonarroti." 

"  If  he  did  not  have  that  dark  hair,  I  would  have  accosted  him  as 
a  German,"  said  Brother  Martin. 

"Of  the  German  he  has  only  the  hard,  stubborn  head,"  Callisto 
smilingly  answered.  "  I  wonder  that  he  has  come ;  for  although 
Messer  Agostino's  friend,  he  is  the  most  unsociable  and  most  retired 
nature  of  which  you  can  conceive.  That  he  goes  about  silent  and  alone 
as  a  hangman,  Raphael  Santi  indeed  retorted  upon  him,  when  he 
one  day  reproved  the  latter  for  always  going  about  with  a  swarm  of 
followers,  like  the  bargello,  the  chief  of  the  bailiffs.  But  cast  your 
eyes  upon  the  two  men  there,  who  are  now  passing  diagonally  over 
the  terrace  entering  into  the  garden." 

"Who  are  they?"  asked  Brother  Martin. 

"  The  one  in  the  robes  of  a  prelate  is  Messer  Pietro  Bembo,  a  man 
distinguished  by  fullness  and  amiability  of  spirit,  and  the  most 
elegant  writer  of  our  time;  he  belongs  to  the  splendid  Court  von 
Urbino,  celebrated  for  so  many  great  men.  He  has  been  led  here, 
they  say,  through  the  wish  to  win  our  Holy  Father  to  the  establish- 
ment of  a  school  of  short-hand,  since  he  is  striving  to  revive  anew 
the  art  of  short-hand  writing,  as  Cicero  already  made  use  of  it 
in  taking  down  his  orations  :  in  fact,  though  he  may  be  here  as 
much  for  the  sake  of  his  lady-love,  the  charming  Marosina,  to 
see  her  and  induce  her  to  follow  him  to  Urbino.  Have  you  not 
heard  of  the  book  "  Gli  Ascolani"  wherein  he  no  less  analytically 
than  elegantly  discusses  the  nature  of  love,  into  which  Madame 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  167 

Marosina  has  so  thoroughly  initiated  him — perhaps,  as  the  wicked 
world  says,  also  Madame  Lucretia  a  little  ?  " 

"I  read,"  replied  Brother  Martin,  shaking  his  head,  "not  the  dia- 
logues in  which  men  of  the  church,  as  he  evidently  is  from  his  dress, 
speak  of  their  love  !  " 

"Then  you  dare  not  read  the  wanton  comedies  which  make  the 
other  of  the  two  men  celebrated ;  for  he  is  also  a  man  of  the  church, 
as  his  dress  indicates,  and  Bembo's  friend  ;  an  eloquent  and  very 
witty  man, —  Bernardo  Dovizio,  called  Bibiena " 

"You  have  not  yet  told  me,"  interposed  Brother  Martin,  "who  is 
the  cardinal  with  whom  Messer  Agostino  was  conversing,  and  who 
looked  down  upon  us  so  proudly  when  we  came  up  to  them." 

"That  is  Cardinal  Rafael  Riario  ;  a  man  of  illustrious  mental  gifts, 
as  his  stately  and  fine  exterior  evinces.  He  is  from  a  distinguished 
house,  clever,  cultivated,  ambitious.  There  is  nothing  lacking  to  him 
that  should  hinder  his  obtaining  at  some  future  time  the  triple 
crown,  —  unless,  alas  !  the  reputation  for  better  morals.  They  say  he 
has  too  much  favor  with  the  women,  and  too  much  zeal  in  seeking 
their  favor." 

"He  has  a  fine  countenance,"  replied  Brother  Martin,  "and  yet 
something  which  repels  me.  He  brings  over  me  a  feeling  like  that 
at  the  first  sight  of  men  with  whom  one  shall  meet  later  in  life,  and 
then  in  close  dispute " 

Their  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  loud  laughing  and  chat- 
ter of  a  group  of  women,  young  without  exception,  who  were  ap- 
proaching them  with  an  offensive  and  peculiar  freedom  of  manner. 
They  were  surrounding  one  of  their  number,  who,  for  the  amuse- 
ment of  the  rest,  was  making  very  graceful  movements  with  a  strange 
bit  of  clothing  which  she  wore.  It  was  a  head-ornament  of  silk 
gauze,  fastened  at  one  end  to  the  girdle ;  the  beauty,  however,  was 
throwing  it  around  her  head  as  if  at  different  aims,  —  now  as  a  cap, 
now  as  a  veil,  now  as  a  covering  for  other  parts  of  her  person,  —  and 
appeared  to  be  giving  the  others  instructions  in  it  amid  laughter  and 
noise.  Such  were  the  conclusions  drawn  in  regard  to  this  dangerous 
weapon  of  coquetry,  which  they  called  the  candale,  and  which,  as 
Callisto  understood  from  their  talk,  was  of  Venetian  origin.  Men 
stepped  up  to  the  circle ;  it  was  soon  surrounded  by  spectators. 
•Cardinal  Rafael  Riario  had  also  come  forward  to  it ;  but  soon,  as  if 
wearied  with  the  play,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  bare  shoulder  of 
•one  of  these  women,  the  most  beautiful  and  stately  of  them,  and 


1 68  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

drawing  her  gently  to  himself,  he  stepped  with  her  down  the  terrace. 
He  let  his  arm  and  hand  rest  upon  her  neck  and  shoulders,  while  he 
walked  along  by  her  side. 

"  See  how  confidentially  Cardinal  Riario  talks  with  that  lady ! " 
whispered  Brother  Martin,  looking  upon  them  in  astonishment.  "Is 
she  his  sister  ?  " 

"  Sister  ?  "  responded  Callisto,  smiling.  "  Good  brother,  what  are 
you  thinking  about !  It  is  Imperia,  the  most  beautiful  of  the  Roman 
courtesans.  See,  they  turn  this  way,  and  approach  us  again.  You 
can  now  see  for  yourself  how  noble  and  beautiful  is  this  proud 
woman's  countenance." 

"  By  all  the  saints,  I  see  only  that  this  is  the  most  dreadful  scandal 
which  has  yet  aroused  me  to  revolt  —  this  behavior  of  a  cardinal ! 
And  a  courtesan,  you  say  that  beautiful  woman  is  ? " 

"  Certainly  —  as  are  the  whole  group  of  these  ladies  playing  here 
with  the  Venetian  head-dress.  Over  the  door  of  more  than  one  of 
them,  you  may  read,  ' Hones ta  meretrix?  This  Imperia  is  for  a 
part  of  the  Roman  world  what  Aspasia  was  for  a  part  of  the 
Athenian.  Those  others  are  as  much  like  Lais,  or  Phryne,  or 
other  celebrated  courtesans  of  the  Grecian  world.  They  belong  to 
our  customs ;  they  make,  in  part,  our  morals.  They  form  a  central 
point  of  a  part  of  our  social  life,  and  there  are  among  them  women  of 
good  birth  ;  women  who  have  every  quality  of  mind  and  heart  except 
virtue.  The  beautiful  Julia  Farnese,  the  lady-love  of  our  former 
Pope,  Alexander  VI.,  who  made  her  brother  a  cardinal  in  spite  of  his 
wild  life,  was  not  much  else.  And  still,  that  greatest  of  all  sinners 
had  her  painted  as  a  Madonna,  and  himself  kneeling  at  her  feet. 
You  are  horrified  at  this?  You  are  right,  Brother  Martin;  but 
observe  life  as  it  is  here,  and  then  confess  that  such  phenomena  as 
this  condition  of  honorable  courtesanship  have  their  good  and  use. 
We  have  thousands  of  men  in  different  positions  who,  because  they 
belong  to  the  church,  are  allowed  to  take  no  wife.  We  have  thous- 
ands of  other  men,  scholars,  artists,  soldiers,  whose  occupations  do 
not  allow  them  to  establish  a  household  with  a  wife  of  equal  rank. 
Shall  they,  on  this  account,  be  consigned  to  sink  with  their  need  of 
love  into  the  lowest  and  most  common  spheres,  which  are,  alas !  not 
wanting  to  us,  and  to  which  a  countless  mass  of  our  population 
belongs  ?  No,  no ;  the  Grecian  and  the  Roman  courtesan  is  an 
institution  which  represents  a  great  advance  out  of  crude  immorality. 
A  broader  and  more  wholesome  advance  would  be  for  us  to  return  to- 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  169 

something  like  the  Roman  legislation  about  marriage,  when  we 
would  have,  besides  the  solemnly  celebrated  'justce  nuptial  a 
second  form  of  contract  recognized  by  state  and  church,  which,  con- 
cluded under  easier  conditions,  might  also  be  allowed  to  those  in  the 
service  of  the  church.  Then  there  would  cease  much  of  this  which 
shocks  you  and  gives  offense  to  every  one,  and  there  would  not  be  so 
many  illegitimate  and  unfortunate  men,  who  often  descend  from  a 
good  relationship  justified  by  fidelity  and  self-sacrifice  for  each  other  ; 
but  they  have  no  right,  because  our  legislation  has  a  deficiency,  or 
our  customs  do  not  recognize  this  necessary  institution.  You 
Germans  have  in  your  law  the  Matrimonium  ad  legem  Salicamy 
but  only  for  princes.  Let  that  be  made  a  universal  institution,  and 
the  morality  of  the  people  would  only  win  thereby. 

"You  comprehend  all  that  very  well  as  a  jurist!"  answered 
Brother  Martin,  shaking  his  head. 

"Would  it  not  be  well  if  we  jurists,  and  not  the  church,  should 
control  the  state  ? "  remarked  Callisto  with  a  smile. 

Brother  Martin  arose. 

"Let  us  not  contend  over  that,"  he  said ;  "only  come  away  out  of 
the  neighborhood  of  these  laughing  women,  and  the  vicinity  of  this 
cardinal,  strolling  at  pleasure  with  his  honorable  courtesan,  as  you 
call  her.  I  cannot  look  upon  them,  or  breathe  the  same  air  with 
them." 

"  And  yet  there  is  no  better  place  than  this  for  viewing  the  com- 
pany;  but  as  you  will.  It  may  also  be  time  for  us  to  call  to  mind  the 
aim  of  our  being  here,  and  look  about  us  for  the  Duke  of  Aricia." 

"Certainly;  if  he  is  not  on  the  terrace,  let  us  go  down  into  the 
garden." 

They  passed  by  the  cardinal  and  Donna  Imperia,  in  going  to  the 
garden-steps,  and  Callisto  said  in  passing  :  — 

"You  are,  however,  still  wrong,  Brother  Martin,  not  to  look  at 
this  maiden,  or  woman,  as  you  please  to  call  her.  Look  at  her  fea- 
tures. You  do  not  easily  see  a  finer  and  more  soulful  face,  or  a 
nobler  form.  She  has  also  often  been  sung  by  our  poets.  One,  in- 
spired, celebrates  the  tasteful  magnificence  with  which  her  dwelling 
is  adorned,  and  the  splendor  of  the  feasts  she  gives  therein  to  her 
friends.  Still  more,  they  magnify  her  knowledge,  the  abundance  of 
learned  books  which  occupy  a  place  near  the  fragrant  ointment  and 
essences  of  her  dressing-table,  and  the  poems  which  she  writes  in 
Italian,  or  Latin  speech." 


i;o  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

Brother  Martin  had  for  all  this  only  a  displeased  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  while  he  quickened  his  pace.  Thus  they  reached  the 
garden  below.  The  walks  of  the  garden  were  also  filled  with  guests, 
who  walked  up  and  down,  or  sat  under  the  statues  of  Mercury,  upon 
marble  seats  in  the  shade  of  the  evergreen  hedge-walls  and  the  old 
cypresses,  and  gayly  entertained  each  other ;  while  the  sun,  sinking 
by  degrees  behind  the  mountain  ridges,  threw  here  still  bright  beams 
and  golden  glow  upon  the  whole  dazzling  picture  of  this  world, 
though  over  other  places  a  dim  half-light  already  was  spread. 

Callisto  asked  one  of  those  he  met  about  the  Duke  of  Aricia,  and 
received  for  answer  that  he  had  been  seen  at  the  end  of  a  walk. 
When  Callisto  and  Brother  Martin  passed  farther  down  the  walk, 
the  former  saw  the  Duke  in  animated  conversation  with  a  handsome, 
dignified  lady :  she  was  one  of  those  ladies  whom  Egino  had  seen 
at  the  marriage  of  Corradina. 

"The  man  with  the  nose  of  a  hawk  and  the  heavy,  shaggy  brows 
is  the  Duke,"  said  Callisto;  "the  lady  who  sits  before  him  on 
the  bench  is  his  daughter-in-law,  Madame  Cornelia  Savelli,  of  the 
house  of  Colonna  Palliano." 

"  Will  you  present  me  to  him  ?  "  asked  Brother  Martin. 

"  Let  us  sit  here  and  wait  till  this  heated  conversation  now 
occupying  him  is  interrupted,"  responded  Callisto,  slowly  walking 
nearer  him  and  taking  his  place  upon  a  seat  near  the  two  talking 
together. 

Detached  words  of  the  interview  forced  their  way  to  them,  —  unin- 
telligible to  Brother  Martin,  with  his  feeble  knowledge  of  the 
speech.  Callisto  understood  a  single  word  ;  still,  if  he  had  wished  to 
listen,  he  would  soon  have  been  disturbed,  for  a  lively,  restless  little 
man  stepped  up  to  them,  reached  Callisto  his  hand,  and  began  with 
great  volubility  a  conversation  with  him.  He  appeared  to  be  one  of 
that  rabble  in  the  great  exchange  of  society  who  knows  everybody, 
takes  an  interest  in  everything,  and  who  expressly  fumes  with 
sympathy  for  persons  and  objects, — a  sympathy  which  then  truly 
is  only  smoke. 

"You  come  late,  late,  Signor  Legista,"  he  said;  "and  where  is 
Donna  Ottavia,  your  wife  ?  Have  you  not  brought  her  along  ?  She 
doesn't  like  large  companies,  I  know,  but  to-day  she  should  have 
come  ;  for  our  noble  host,  Messer  Agostino,  this  king  of  all  mer- 
chants, has  prepared  for  us  the  most  beautiful  surprises.  I  was  just 
now  over  there  in  the  forest,  and  threw  a  glance  into  the  mysterious 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  i;r 

tents,  out  of  which  some  kind  of  a  secret  will  come  forth  to  meet  us. 
You  see  the  curtained  pavilions  at  the  end  of  the  terrace  up  there  — 
but  I  will  betray  nothing  of  that  which  will  surprise  you  ;  you  will 
see  it  indeed,  and  then  will  you  admire  these  magnificent  little 
kingdoms,  which  certainly  rather  go  through  the  eye  of  the  needle 
than  for  a  camel  to  come  into  heaven.  Even  the  man  most  afraid 
of  his  kind  of  any  man  in  Rome  has  been  decoyed  here." 

"  You  mean  Buonarroti  ?  " 

"  Even  him ;  and  what  is  still  more,  he  has  read  aloud  for  us,  at 
the  breaking  up  of  the  table,  a  sonnet,  so  well  composed  and  fine,, 
that  I  maintain  one  must  admire  him  far  more  as  a  poet  than  as  a 
sculptor  and  painter ;  for  in  both  arts,  you  know,  he  is  not  quite 
according  to  my  taste." 

"Not  according  to  your  taste,  Master  Sylvestro  ?  And  what  fault 
do  you  find  with  his  style  ?  " 

"What  do  I  find  fault  with?  You  see,  Master  Raphael  Santi  also 
paints  much  incomprehensible  and  unsubstantial  stuff.  For  example, 
now,  up  there  for  our  Father  Julius,  on  the  walls,  he  paints  upon 
one  and  the  same  surface  all  the  apostles  and  fathers  of  the  church 
together,  part  in  heaven,  part  on  the  earth,  without  one's  knowing 
wherefore  one  part  of  them  are  in  heaven  and  the  others  still  on 
the  earth.  Opposite  these,  upon  the  other  side,  he  paints  all  the 
philosophers  and  thinkers  meeting  in  one  and  the  same  hall ;  and 
now  I  pray  you,  Signer  Minucci,  is  not  that  madness?  Are  there 
men  stupid  enough  to  believe  these  people  have  all  existed  so  in  one 
heap  together  ?  How  childish  that  is  !  But  the  Master  von  Urbino 
paints  them  at  least  pleasing,  graceful ;  every  individual  form  is 
beautiful.  Does  Buonarroti  do  that  ?  He  only  wishes  to  show  that 
he  is  a  wizard  in  drawing.  He  laughed  aloud  at  me  grimly  when  I 
told  him  that ;  but  am  I  not  right  ?  Is  it  not  mere  foolishness  with 
which  he  fills  out  the  Sistine  Chapel, —  nothing  but  occurrences,  and 
forms,  and  stories,  which  never  were  and  never  will  be,  and,  besides, 
so  wild  and  desolate  that  the  looker  on  becomes  afraid  before  this 
world  of  giants  ?  '  Messer  Michael  Angelo  Buonarroti,'  I  say  to  him, 
'you  are  a  man  of  so  much  insight,  and  throw  away  your  time  on  the 
representation  of  things  in  which  no  one  believes  any  more,  and 
which,  as  you  represent  them,  could  also  please  no  one.  Why  do 
you  do  that  ?  Why  do  our  artists  always  still  represent  pictures 
and  scenes  out  of  the  Christian  mythology?  or  why  have  they  in 
more  modern  times  gone  over  to  that,  since  this  Christian  mythol- 


1/2  LUTHER    'IN   ROME. 

•ogy  finds  no  more  believers  ?  or  why  also  represent  scenes  of 
heathen  mythology,  of  which  one  believes  still  less  ?  If  you  paint 
for  me  how  Socrates  or  Phocion,  these  noble  men,  were  compelled 
to  drink  the  poisoned  cup,  would  that  not  be  to  me  a  more  moving 
picture  than  the  wild,  naked,  mortal  coils  of  your  Last  Judgment, 
•over  which  I  laugh,  because  it  belongs  to  the  realm  of  fables  ?" 

Brother  Martin,  who  had  listened  with  ever-increasing  astonish- 
ment to  the  talkative  man,  interrupted  him  here,  while  he  deliber- 
ately arose  before  him  with  threatening,  flaming  eyes ;  but  restrain- 
ing himself,  and  suddenly  turning  to  Callisto,  he  said  :  — 

"  Is  this  babbler  all  in  earnest  ?  or  does  he  wish  to  ridicule  my 
calling?" 

Callisto  laid  his  hand  upon  Brother  Martin's  arm,  and  drew  him 
again  to  his  place. 

"Do  you  not  see,  then,  that  such  a  design  never  entered  Signer 
Sylvestro's  head  ? "  said  Callisto,  smiling. 

"  And  you  really  think  as  you  speak,"  continued  Brother  Martin 
to  the  gentleman,  who  turned  in  surprise,  now  upon  Callisto,  now 
upon  the  monk,  "you  have  really  thus  relinquished  all  faith,  all 
fear " 

"Faith!"  Signor  Sylvestro  exclaimed,  laughing  aloud.  "Good 
brother,  you  are  comical.  I  go  to  the  confession  and  the  Lord's 
Supper,  and  take  indulgences  and  order  masses,  as  does  every  good 
citizen  and  Christian.  But  if  I  pay  for  all  that  my  good  money,  what 
more  do  you  then  desire  ?  The  church  sells  to  me  her  wares  ;  I  pay 
for  them  in  good  coin  —  now,  do  you  also  wish  faith  ?  Has  the  mer- 
chant who  gives  to  me  his  wares  and  receives  for  them  my  gold,  to 
ask  after  my  thoughts  ?  " 

Brother  Martin  was  dumbfounded.  He  looked  with  gloomy  eyes 
upon  the  man  ;  it  was  a  relief  to  him  when  the  latter,  laughing,  turned 
away  to  accost  some  one  going  by. 

"You  are  as  if  crushed,  Brother  Martin,"  said  Callisto. 

"  That  I  am,"  he  responded.     "  Do  many  men  think  as  this  one  ?  " 

"Many,"  said  Callisto. 

"Your  Master  Santi,  I  observed,  had  only  coolly  turned  away 
from  the  church  ;  but  this  man  has  become  her  enemy ! " 

"Oh  no!"  rejoined  Callisto;  "don't  believe  that.  He  submits  to 
her,  as  we  all,  indeed,  must ;  and  since  he  submits  to  her,  she  lets  him 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  173 

go  his  way !  But  let  us  think  about  our  purpose.  The  duke  arises 
now ;  let  us  step  up  to  him." 

The  duke  did  get  up,  sure  enough,  but  for  Callisto  to  speak  to 
him  remained  impracticable ;  for  the  lady,  his  daughter-in-law,  who 
had  been  sitting  near  him,  arose  at  the  same  time,  and  seizing  hold 
of  his  arm,  as  if  to  hold  him  back,  said  in  a  louder  tone  than  she  had 
hitherto  employed,  and  eagerly  :  — 

"  Your  Excellency  must  tell  me  still  more  about  this.  You  do  not 
escape  so  ! " 

"  I  know  nothing  more,  as  I  told  you,"  replied  the  duke,  —  "  nothing 
further  than  that  Livio  has  had  a  violent  and  hostile  encounter  with 
a  strange  man,  a  German,  whom  he  discovered  with  her ;  and  that  I 
think  Livio  will  now  learn,  when  he  must,  that  Corradina  does  not 
love  him,  alone,  but  also  carries  in  her  heart  another,  who,  without 
our  being  aware  of  it,  kept  himself  in  her  presence.  Livio  will  now 
let  go  his  foolish  plans  upon  Corradina  and  become  reasonable. 
You  know  that  I,  uneasy  and  concerned  lest  Livio  have  the  design 
of  some  deed  of  violence  against  Corradina,  am  staying  in  the  castle 
on  the  Ave'ntine,  in  nearness  to  her " 

"  I  know  that  you  remain  in  her  vicinity,  and  certainly  only  to 
protect  her,  truly  !  "  interposed  Cornelia  Savelli,  the  words  a  little 
mockingly  intonated.  "For,"  she  added,  "since  you  out  of  fear 
of  Livio  were  prevailed  upon  to  consent  to  the  marriage,  which  was 
yet  planned  by  them  only  to  play  you  a  cross-stroke,  it  seems  to  me 
you  could  no  longer  have  other  interest  in  the  matter." 

Without  expressing  himself  in  regard  to  it,  the  duke  continued  :  — 

"  I  can  only  give  the  advice  to  you,  Cornelia,  now,  since  Livio  must 
be,  at  least,  a  little  cooled  from  his  misplaced  passion,  to  do  your 
best  to  cure  him  entirely." 

"  I  should  have  much  to  do  indeed  to  heal  all  the  misplaced 
passions  produced  by  Corradina,"  responded  Cornelia,  sarcastically, 
in  a  tone  of  opposition.  "  So  that  is  all  you  will  confess  to  me  ? " 

"What  shall  I  say  more,  Cornelia?"  replied  the  duke,  now  also 
with  a  wicked  smile.  "  Corradina's  German  lover  and  his  fate  will 
not  interest  you  ;  and  since,  as  you  say,  it  interests  you  so  little 
whether  or  not  Livio,  your  husband,  after  this  experience,  can  be 
again  won  by  you,  we  may  as  well  let  this  conversation  end.  Give 
me  your  arm  ;  the  sun  is  set,  and  the  coming  night-air  warns  us  to 
withdraw  ourselves  to  the  terrace  or  into  the  house." 

He  reached  her  his  arm.     Since,  however,  the  peculiar  carefulness 


174  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

» 
• 

of  the  Romans  against  the  influence  of  the  evening  air  after  the 
setting  of  the  sun  had  already  led  many  of  the  guests  the  same 
way,  the  Duke  of  Aricia  could  not  pass  Callisto  without  observing 
him.  He  returned  his  salutation  with  a  curt  — 

"  Ah  !  Signor  Legista  —  bona  sera  —  it  appears  you  are  now  also 
giving  instructions  in  theology,  since  I  see  you  with  a  young  monk, 
as  you  not  long  since  were  with  a  student  of  law  !  " 

"I  give  instruction  in  everything,  Your  Excellency,"  responded 
Callisto,  unabashed  ;  "  still,  not  yet  in  theology,  but  in  Roman  person- 
ages, occupations,  and  customs.  My  companion,  this  young  Augus- 
tine brother,  you  must  know,  is  a  novice  in  all  things,  since  he  has 
only  a  short  time  since  come  out  of  Germany.  But  since  you  have 
reminded  me  of  my  former  pupil,  the  jurist,  now  let  me  add  that  this 
is  even  his  opponent,  in  a  most  especial  sense  —  opponent  in  a  law- 
suit. He  could  also  give  you  information  about  him  which  you 
asked  of  me,  and  which  I  was  in  a  condition  to  communicate  only  so 
imperfectly  :  he  could  give  it  so  much  more  reliably,  as  he  who 
contends  with  him  here  at  the  Rota,  knows  well  his  descent  and 
relationships." 

The  duke  measured  Brother  Martin  with  a  distrustful  glance,  and 
then  having  turned  very  scornfully,  he  said  to  Callisto  :  — 

"  So,  so  —  it  is  likely  this  is  the  German  brother  for  whom  the 
young  gentleman  of  whom  I  asked  you  had  sent,  —  probably  to  con- 
clude with  him  a  compromise  in  his  suit !  Say  to  your  new  pupil, 
then,  Signor  Minucci,  that  he  has  done  well  not  to  come  and  accept 
a  compromise.  That  German  gentleman  will,  I  fear,  be  hindered  a 
long  time  from  prosecuting  his  suit  energetically,  and  his  opponent 
will  now  have  doubly  favorable  play.  Felicissima  notte,  Signor 
Minucci ! " 

The  duke  passed  on  with  a  haughty  nod  of  the  head  ;  Madame 
Cornelia  swept  past  at  his  side.  Callisto,  a  little  put  out,  looked 
after  him,  and  then  at  Brother  Martin. 

"There  is  nothing  to  be  done,"  he  whispered;  "the  duke  is 
suspicious. " 

"Indeed,  he  is  a  cunning  fellow;  my  unfortunate  countryman 
must  also  have  spoken  of  the  fact  that  he  expected  me  in  his 
cloister.  One  could  hate  him  on  account  of  his  endless  improvi- 
dence. The  poor  Irmgard.  She  awaits  comforting  news  from  me  — 
and  I  shall  have  none  to  bring  her." 

"  And   what   evil  fate  may  we   not  fear  for   poor  Count  Egino, 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  175 

from  the  scoffingly  intonated-  words  of  the    duke  ? "    said    Callisto. 

"It  is  an  unhappy  story!"  said  Brother  Martin.  "Instead  of 
going  to  her  with  consolation  and  a  good  hope  for  him,  we  go  with 
doubled  care.  Can  we  go  ?  " 

"Not  well,"  replied  Callisto;  "you  see  they  are  all  crowded  to- 
gether upon  the  terrace  and  in  the  festal-hall,  where  new  refresh- 
ments are  being  served ;  they  would  scarcely  let  us  through  there 
if  we  sh'ould  wish  to  go  now.  Messer  Agostino  has  still  somewhere 
in  reserve  a  surprise  for  his  guests,  —  a  spectacular  display.  It  would 
attract  too  much  attention  if  we  were  to  go ;  and  if  this  cunning 
duke  should  see  it  he  would  certainly  entertain  the  suspicion  that 
we  came  only  for  the  purpose  of  approaching  him.  Therefore  you 
must  still  hold  out  awhile  longer." 

"Which  will  be  hard  enough  for  me  !  " 

"Why?  Is  not  this  society  splendid,  enlivened  with  the  forms  of 
beautiful  women  and  distinguished  men  ?  Gayly  and  pleasingly  the 
company  moves  about  in  the  forms  of  the  finest  pictures,  and  the 
music,  the  surroundings,  this  festal-hall,  this  garden,  does  it  not 
form  the  most  beautiful  setting  for  a  talented  company  ?  Does  it  not 
teach  you  to  know  the  world,  a  world  foreign  to  you?" 

"  The  lesson  which  it  gives  to  me,"  answered  Brother  Martin, 
"presses  a  sting  to  my  heart,  as  if  a  red-hot  steel;  and  if  it  were 
unknown  to  me  it  would  be  better  for  me.  Will  it  ever  be  possible 
to  call  back  to  the  right  path  men  who  think  as  these  do,  and  to 
save  their  souls  ?  If  they  were  only,  as  Master  Raphael  Santi,  seek- 
ing spirits  !  But  they  are  that  no  longer.  The  '  Christian  mythol- 
ogy '  or  the  heathen,  it  is  all  the  same  to  them.  They  are  no  more 
like  the  lukewarm,  which  are  spit  out  of  the  mouth  :  their  heart  is 
cold,  cold  as  nothingness.  They  thus  stand  over  the  abyss,  and  the 
voice  of  one  who  would  snatch  them  back  from  the  steep  brink  of 
eternal  destiny,  would  be  as  the  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilder- 
ness ! " 

"With  many  of  them,  perhaps.  Many  others  of  them  the  voice 
would  call  back,  if  it  should  be  the  right  voice ! " 

"You  yourself?"  here  interposed  Brother  Martin,  with  a  quick, 
sharp  look  at  Callisto's  features.  "Say  now  for  yourself,  what  is 
your  creed?" 

"  My  creed  ?  That  is  a  question  of  conscience,  good  brother," 
gave  Callisto  for  answer.  "I  have  no  creed;  but  I  have  a  view,  a 
philosophy,  if  you  will ;  and  if  it  is  not  exactly  a  dogmatic  creed,  it  is 


i/6  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

yet  for  me  sufficiently  a  conviction  to  furnish  me  a  good  moral  law 
reaching  out  to  all  the  relations  of  life.  It  is  the  philosophy  of  all 
the  enlightened  minds  of  our  time,  — the  philosophy  of  Plato." 

"Is  it  not  sufficient  for  you,  as  for  so  many  'enlightened  minds,' 
to  have  the  illusion  that  the  philosophy  of  Plato  is  in  you,  without 
your  being  able  to  give  an  account  of  what  the  philosophy  of  Plato 
then  is  ? " 

"No,"  replied  Callisto ;  "do  not  consider  me  so  superficial.  I 
know  well  what  of  Plato,  what  of  the  notions  of  the  Stoics,  what  also 
of  the  Christian  refining  and  deepening  of  pagan  views,  is  in  my 
thought.  Believe  me,  in  spite  of  all  the  stagnation  of  the  church,  of 
all  the  wantonness  of  morals,  of  all  the  crudeness  of  the  passions, 
and  of  the  insolence  of  egotism,  which  we  perceive  in  our  time,  there 
still  lies  over  its  nobler  spirits  a  very  earnest,  consecrated  temper;  a 
longing  after  the  Beautiful  and  a  desire  for  the  True,  as,  indeed,  over 
no  earlier  time.  It  is  as  if  the  eve  of  an  event  in  the  spiritual  world 
as  of  a  coming  dawn,  as  a  still  presentiment  in  the  souls  which  are 
listening  whether  or  not  through  the  tops  of  the  cypresses  under 
which  the  quiet  thinker  rests,  the  meditating  artist  dreams  the  Mas- 
ter will  pass  with  a  gentle  murmuring.  If  you  wish  to  find  that  out, 
read  the  hymns  like  the  meditative  poem  of  Lorenzo  de  Medici,  the 
Magnificent,  wherein  he  has  his  teacher  in  the  Platonic  philoso- 
phy, Marsilius  Ficinus,  to  represent  the  blending  of  this  philosophy 
with  Christianity." 

Brother  Martin  did  not  answer.  He  walked  along  by  Callisto 
looking  upon  the  ground.  They  mounted  the  steps  to  the  terrace, 
where  Callisto  was  accosted  by  one  of  his  acquaintances,  and  became 
engaged  in  a  conversation  that  did  not  seem  inclined  to  come  quickly 
to  an  end,  since  the  acquaintance  began  to  speak  to  Callisto  about 
legal  affairs. 

With  gloomy  eyes  Brother  Martin  turned  from  them,  and  again 
descended  the  steps  into  the  garden.  There  he  walked  down  the 
broad,  middle  path  to  the  fountain.  It  was  well  for  him  to  be  alone 
for  a  time.  It  had  become  very  oppressive  to  him  ;  he  breathed 
with  difficulty.  Indeed,  the  evening  was  very  close,  as  if  a  storm 
might  be  at  hand  ;  clouds  had  collected  in  the  sky,  which  continually 
grew  darker.  On  this  account  the  twilight  which  had  followed  the 
sunset  had,  with  unusual  suddenness,  spread  itself  over  the  garden 
with  deep  darkness. 

Brother  Martin  came  as  far  as  the  fountain  ;  he  ascended  the  steps 


LUTHER    IN  ROME,  177 

to  the  right  of  it,  up  to  the  higher  terrace  lying  in  the  background 
of  the  garden.  He  saw  that  some  men  were  busy  here  setting  out 
and  preparing  some  ,iron  vessels,  which  looked  like  coal-pans,  also 
spreading  carpets,  and  moving  here  and  there  low  seats ;  while 
another  brought  a  bundle  of  short  spears,  and  then  played  with  a 
pair  of  fine  wolf  dogs,  which  followed  him. 

The  German  turned  and  threw  back  a  glance  upon  the  garden  and 
house ;  the  festal-hall  began  to  glitter  with  lighting  up,  and  to  pour 
out  the  glow  of  countless  lights  upon  the  terrace  in  front  of  the 
house,  upon  the  costumed  forms  enveloped  in  the  manifold  light- 
•effects  from  the  brilliant  illumination. 

Brother  Martin  stared  awhile  on  the  spectacle  below ;  then  came 
to  him  the  thought  whether,  if  he  would  go  straight  on  and  pass  into 
the  forest  covering  the  steeply  rising  mountain-side  behind  him,  he 
might  not  soon  reach  the  inclosing  wall  above,  and  somewhere  in  it 
find  a  way  of  exit.  He  would  give  much  to  be  able  to  slip  away  to 
be  alone  with  his  thoughts. 

He  therefore  left  the  terrace  which  he  had  mounted,  and 
clambered  through  the  thicket  behind  it  quickly  upward,  through 
the  underwood  and  under  lofty  trees  high  up.  It  was  remarkably 
lively  in  the  woods  ;  forms,  which  as  if  fleeing  from  him,  glided 
through  the  bushes,  dazzling  white,  and  —  in  fact  naked  forms, 
two  half-nude  maidens  they  were,  who  now  slipped  before  him  around 
a  thicket,  and  laughed  and  whispered. 

Astonished,  he  remained  standing ;  he  rubbed  his  hand  over 
his  face.  He  was  certainly  only  in  a  dream ! 

He  then  went  farther,  and  again  remained  standing;  he  breathed 
quickly ;  his  pulses  began  to  beat  wildly ;  his  breathing  stopped,  and 
it  was  as  if  a  swoon  must  come  upon  him  the  next  minute.  What 
was  that  ?  What  did  it  mean  ?  What  meant  these  forms  which 
now,  a  short  distance  below  him,  on  the  cliff,  assembled  from  the 
bushes  on  all  sides,  descending  to  the  terrace  —  a  whole  host,  all 
scarcely  half-clothed,  or  naked  in  spite  of  a  light,  fluttering 
drapery  ?  What  would  they  do  down  there  ?  Why  did  they  let 
themselves  down  on  the  carpets,  reclining  one  upon  another,  the 
one  in  this,  the  other  in  that  place,  here  singly,  there  in  groups 
of  five  or  six  ?  And  now,  in  truth,  fires  became  kindled,  which 
flamed  forth  from  the  arranged  fire-basins ;  a  sudden  dazzling  glow 
coming  forth  as  if  by  enchantment,  in  order  to  throw  a.  light 


i/8  LUTHER    IN 

upon  these  nude  women,  while  a  crashing  hunter's  fanfare  sounded 
out,  and  then  passed  off  into  a  soft  music. 

So  it  was  ;  it  was  really  so.  A  great  commotion  arose  over  there 
in  the  festal-hall,  as  Brother  Martin  could  perceive  through  the 
lighted  windows.  All  rushed  out  upon  the  terrace  lying  in  front, 
laughed,  clapped  their  hands,  let  a  hundred  bravos  peal  forth. 

" Brava,  bravissima,  Diana  and  her  nymphs!" 

" Montium  cztstos,   nemonimque,  Virgo!" 

"  Diva  triformis  !  " 

Brother  Martin  heard  it.  It  was  as  if  Signer  Sylvestro  cried  it 
out ;  countless  other  cries  followed. 

The  words  gave  him  something  like  a  key  to  what  was  transpiring 
under  his  eyes.  It  was  a  representation  of  the  hunting-camp  of 
Diana  and  her  huntresses ;  a  living  picture,  as  we  would  say,  which 
Messer  Agostino  Chigi  had  arranged,  and  which  upon  the  height  of 
his  terrace,  with  the  background  of  the  green  bushy  woods,  with  the 
cleverly  planned  illumination  from  beyond,  might  be  from  below 
picturesque  and  enchanting  enough  to  behold.  At  any  rate  it  was 
received  with  loud  rejoicing,  and  the  enthusiasm  increased  as  the 
flames  in  the  coal-pans  began  to  beam  forth  in  variously  colored 
fires, —  to  flash  up  now  purple,  now  violet,  now  green. 

Seen  from  above,  from  Brother  Martin's  standpoint,  the  picture 
of  the  goddess  of  the  chase,  with  her  nymphs,  with  her  spears, 
her  dogs,  this  confusion  of  naked  bodies  and  limbs,  with  every 
colored  drapery  of  light  material  between,  was  quite  wanting  in  the 
enchantment  which  it  had  for  those  standing  below.  There  was 
wanting  the  conception,  as  a  whole,  which  only  the  right  arrange- 
ment, the  right  light  could  give.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the  notes  of 
the  music,  which  for  Brother  Martin  were  something  softening  the 
shock  of  the  scene, —  something  which,  as  it  were,  took  away  the 
common  reality,  and  lifted  it  out  of  the  real  life  into  the  land  of 
dreams, — he  would  not  once  have  felt  the  gentlest  excitement  of  the 
senses ;  he  would  simply  have  felt  outraged  and  horrified. 

And  still,  as  it  was,  he  felt  outraged  and  horrified ;  he  stood  and 
looked  staringly  upon  the  whole  picture  before  him  there  below : 
this  camp  of  Diana  illuminated  by  every  kind  of  dazzling  and  colored 
lights,  then  the  dark  garden  out  of  which  the  music  resounded  ;  the 
host  of  guests,  who  noisily  crowded  out  from  the  house  through  the 
garden,  to  observe  the  picture  more  closely  in  its  individuality ; 
the  brilliantly  lighted  house,  out  of  whose  interior,  as  from  a  feast 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.       .  179 

of  Sardanapalus,  gleamed  the  splendor  and  wealth  of  the  ornamental 
furniture  and  the  golden  tableware  of  the  richly  dressed  and  luxu- 
rious persons  within. 

He  stood  there  and  gazed  down ;  how  long  it  continued,  this 
spectacle,  he  would  not  have  known  how  to  say.  He  observed,  all 
at  once,  a  very  suddenly  occurring  excitement  in  the  camp  of  the 
nymphs :  they  drew  themselves  together ;  low  cries  became  heard  ; 
some  sprang  up  and  drew  what  clothing  they  wore  close  around 
them  ;  the  others  followed  their  example.  There  were  drops  of  rain 
falling,  which,  striking  on  the  naked  shoulders  and  backs,  had  so  sud- 
denly thrown  a  panic  over  this  camp.  The  drops  rustled  now  already 
over  Brother  Martin's  head  in  the  leaves  of  the  trees.  Diana  and 
her  nymphs  fled  before  them,  to  the  right  and  left,  seeking  shelter 
in  the  two  pavilions  at  the  end  of  the  terrace,  and  after  a  few 
minutes  had  disappeared  behind  the  curtain. 

The  thunder-storm,  which  the  dark  clouds  rolling  themselves 
together  had  announced,  seemed  inclined  to  break  out  ;  the  thick, 
down-showering  drops  were  its  first  greeting.  A  whirlwind  hurried 
down  from  above  over  the  mountain-side,  twisting  the  tops  of  the 
trees.  Brother  Martin  slowly  descended,  to  seek  shelter  in  the  house. 
He  came  to  the  terrace  below  him,  and  passing  diagonally  over  the 
carpets  lying  there  spread  out,  he  suddenly  stopped  in  its  midst,  in 
order  to  look  upon  a  contorted  streak  of  lightning.  He  felt,  at  the 
same  time,  the  falling  of  the  drops  had  ceased  ;  only  a  second  wind- 
gust  came,  and  moved  violently,  right  and  left,  the  flashing,  colored 
flames  in  the  coal-pans. 

So  he  remained  standing,  his  arms  thrown  over  his  breast,  looking 
up  to  heaven  as  if  expecting  a  second  flash  of  lightning  would  come 
to  inscribe  its  indentations  upon  the  inky  wall  of  the  skies. 

The  lightning  came ;  it  rent  asunder  suddenly  and  crashingly  the 
cloud-masses  to  the  very  earth,  and  a  sullen  thunder  growled  after  it. 
Brother  Martin  involuntarily  stretched  out  his  hand,  as  if  in  an  -ebul- 
lition of  angry  joy  over  this  crash  that  he  might  have  liked  to  hurl 
down  at  his  feet  upon  this  world,  as  a  terrifying  call  of  God. 

"Only  see  the  monk  up  yonder,"  said  one  of  the  guests  among 
those  upon  the  lower  terrace  at  the  house,  turning  back  to  another. 

"Ah !  "  the  latter  exclaimed,  "how  pale  the  wind  throws  over  him 
the  blue  flame  of  the  coal-pans !  " 

"And  now,  where  the  lightning  flashes  quickly  over  him,  he 
stands  there  like  a  threatening  vision." 


i8o  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"How  threateningly  he  stretches  out  his  hand  against  us!" 

"  Girolamo  Savonarola,  who  comes  back  again  in  the  fire ! " 
exclaimed  a  third,  smiling. 

"To  send  his  lightnings  crashing  into  our  feast." 

"Not  yet,"  remarked  a  voice  in  their  vicinity  —  it  was  that  of 
Signer  Callisto;  "this  threatening  form  up  there  on  the  height, 
which  seems  to  you  as  a  vision,  is  only  a  German  monk,  Brother 
Martin  Luther,  from  Wittenberg." 


TRANSFIGURATION.     (RAPHAEL.) 


CHAPTER   VII. 

DOMESTIC   LIFE    IN   THE   HOUSE   OF   THE    SAVELLI. 

ET  us  turn  now  to  Egino  von  Ortenburg,  and  look  after  the 
fate  that  had  befallen  him,  over  which  the  Duke  of 
Aricia  showed  himself  so  silent  even  in  the  presence  of 
his  daughter-in-law,  and  still  more  toward  Callisto. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which  Egino  had  spoken  with 
Corradina  and  had  written  that  letter,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  did 
not  reach  the  hands  of  Brother  Martin  till  the  next  day  —  on  the 
evening  of  this  day,  Egino  was  in  the  garden  of  his  cloister. 

It  was  after  the  supper-time  of  the  monks,  who  had  already 
betaken  themselves  to  rest ;  only  out  of  a  few  cells  still  shimmered  a 
weak,  reddish  light.  Perhaps  it  was  the  learned  men  of  the 
order,  who  were  there  remaining  awake  with  their  books,  and 
who  preferred  to  the  early  time  of  rest  the  waking  thought-life 
in  which  they  carried  on  their  theological  investigations. 

Fra  Eustachio  had  compared  man  to  a  tree.  One  could  then 
compare  the  thoughts  in  which  they  live  to  the  leaves  with 
which  the  tree  clothes  itself.  There  lies  in  this  picture  a  conso- 
lation. If  there  should  seize  upon  us  a  despair  over  the  prodigious 
heap  of  humanity  whose  whole  mental  life  is  wasted  upon  the  untrue 
and  upon  false  systems,  upon  the  suppositions  of  scholasticism,  let 
us  remind  ourselves  that  men  are  trees  which  must  put  out  leaves, 
common  forest  trees,  which  bear  nothing  but  leaves,  or  needles  like 
the  pine.  Why  do  we  struggle  against  it,  if  only  the  forest  is  green  ? 
if  these  leaves  and  needles  are  worth  nothing  ?  if  it  is  their  lot  in  the 
autumn  to  fall  away  and  moulder  ?  And  have  they  not,  also,  a  value 
as  fertilizers  of  the  ground  for  the  coming  race  of  trees,  among 
which  are  also  even  glorious  fruit  trees  ? 

The  greatest  quiet  prevailed  in  the  garden.  Out  of  the  broad 
plain  into  which  the  Tiber  threw  itself  southward  after  it  had 
mirrored  the  rock-wall  of  the  Aventine,  came  the  evening  breeze 


1 82  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

rustling  in  the  tops  of  the  laurel  trees  of  the  cloister  garden,  and 
whistling  a  low,  mournful  tone  of  complaint  through  the  old 
cypresses  which  stood  along  the  wall.  Crickets  chirped ;  now  and 
then  a  bell  tolled  or  a  clock  struck  in  one  of  the  many  hundreds  of 
towers  of  the  slumbering  Eternal  City.  Otherwise,  however,  all  was 
silent,  and  the  air  so  clear  and  still  that  one  could  perceive  the 
plash  of  the  fountain  which  murmured  in  the  -  quadrangle  of  the 
intersecting  walks.  One  might  believe  when  he  raised  his  head 
aloft  to  the  innumerable  stars  which  glittered  in  the  dark  but  un- 
clouded vault  of  the  heavens,  that  he  could  hear  the  crackling  of 
these  eternally  twinkling  and  sparkling  little  beams  of  fire. 

As  upon  the  previous  evening,  the  window-casement  was  open 
upon  the  balcony  of  the  Savelli  Castle ;  a  light  forced  its  way  out 
from  the  interior. 

But  Corradina  did  not,  as  upon  yesterday  evening,  appear  upon  the 
balcony.  Egino  gazed  from  his  former  place  upon  the  basin  of  the 
fountain  across  to  the  balcony,  and  did  not  grow  weary  of  gazing. 
The  time  went  by ;  Corradina  did  not  appear.  Instead  of  this,  he 
observed  a  few  times  a  shadow  gliding  past  the  door,  which  momen- 
tarily obstructed  the  light  falling  out  upon  the  balcony;  only  a 
moment,  yet  some  one  must  be  walking  very  rapidly  through  the 
chamber. 

Once  he  thought  he  heard  thence  the  buzz  of  voices  through  the 
night.  Certainly  he' had  deceived  himself.  All  sank  again  into  the 
former  stillness.  Then  he  perceived  it  again  more  distinctly;  and 
then  —  was  not  that  something  like  an  angry  outcry,  or,  indeed,  a  cry 
for  help  ? 

No ;  all  died  out  again.  It  was  very  foolish  in  him  to  disquiet  him- 
self about  it.  The  shadow  no  longer  glided  as  before  past  the  case- 
ment. Still,  it  drew  Egino  nearer.  He  passed  along  the  cloister  and 
came  to  the  wall  door,  which  led  into  the  garden  lying  beyond.  It 
was  again  locked  as  on  yesterday.  Again  he  looked  scrutinizingly 
at  the  wall,  at  the  cypresses  which  stood  beside  it. 

Why  should  these  cypresses  so  stubbornly  lay  their  boughs 
against  their  trunks !  If  they  would  only  have  stretched  them  out 
as  other  trees  stretch  out  their  boughs  from  them,  it  might  thus 
have  been  easily  possible  on  a  strong  branch  to  help  one's  self  upon 
the  top  of  the  wall.  Egino  racked  his  brain  over  the  possibility  of 
such  a  thing ;  for  in  spite  of  all  the  stillness  now  fallen  upon  the 
castle  over  there,  his  uneasiness  had  not  ceased. 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  183 

Suddenly  he  struck  himself  upon  the  brow,  while  he  murmured  :  — 

"  How  stupid  I  am !  If  no  bough  willingly  extends  itself  over 
the  wall,  one  must  compel  one  of  them  to  bend  over  it." 

He  swung  himself  nimbly  to  the  trunk  which  appeared  to  him 
most  suitable,  and  clambered  up  higher  than  the  dividing  wall ;  which 
was  very  easily  done,  on  account  of  the  innumerable  boughs  rising 
from  the  trunk.  Then  he  climbed  up  on  one  of  those  boughs  till  it 
bent  under  the  burden  ;  now  he  let  himself  sink  down  with  it  Thus 
Egino  succeeded  in  stretching  one  leg  over  the  rim  of  the  wall ;  and 
a  slight  swing  now  enabled  him  to  sit  astride  upon  the  wall. 

Egino  looked  down  into  the  garden  of  the  castle,  which  lay  there 
deserted  as  that  of  the  cloister.  When  he  let  himself  down,  clutch- 
ing with  his  hands  to  the  rim  of  the  wall,  the  height  was  no  more  so 
considerable  that  one  might  not  be  able  to  spring  upon  the  ground 
without  danger.  To  succeed  in  again  returning  over  the  wall  was 
truly  more  difficult ;  there  stood  no  helpful  cypresses  on  the  side  of 
the  castle  garden. 

Although  his  standpoint  now  was  much  nearer  the  lighted  cham- 
ber with  the  open  window-casement,  yet  every  tone  of  the  inter- 
changing voices  escaped  him  ;  he  only  saw  anew,  from  time  to  time, 
the  swiftly  moving  shadow  gliding  before  the  light  in  the  interior 
of  the  chamber. 

He  had  so  sat  awhile  when  this  shadow,  again  emerging,  again 
darkening  the  light  falling  upon  the  balcony,  suddenly  thickened 
into  a  form,  and  stepped  into  the  frame  of  the  window-casing. 

It  was  a  masculine  form,  whether  young  or  old,  Egino  could  not 
determine  on  account  of  the  distance  and  the  darkness,  and  it  also 
moved  so  quickly  ;  it  stepped,  evidently  excited,  to  the  balustrade  of 
the  balcony,  and  exclaimed,  turning  back  the  head  to  the  open 
window :  — 

"  Your  will !  a  woman's  will !  Have  you  seen  the  riders  in  the 
arena  hold  out  the  paper-covered  rings  ?  And  how  they  shy  before 
this  hindrance?  As  these  jugglers  go  through  such  a  paper  ring,  I 
go  through  your  will !  You  will  spend  to-morrow  night  in  Castle 
Savello ! " 

An  oath  thrown  out  upon  the  night  followed  these  words,  during 
which  the  man  reclined  with  his  arms  upon  the  balustrade  of  the 
balcony.  These  words  made  Egino  tremble  in  his  very  soul  ;  they 
went  through  him  like  a  sword.  He  knew  the  voice.  He  had  al- 
ready once  heard  it.  But  had  he  now  the  leisure  to  think  about  to 


1 84  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

whom  it  belonged  ?  Enough,  the  voice  was  angrily  threatening,, 
threatening  violence  —  that  was  enough;  that  tore  him  away  up 
there  to  the  side  of  the  woman  exposed  to  violence.  In  the  next 
moment  he  had  as  noiselessly  as  possible  slipped  down  from  the 
comb  of  the  wall,  and  sped  below  along  the  wall  in  its  shadow  to  the 
terrace,  to  the  open  entrance  to  the  stair-cased  tower;  then  he 
climbed  the  steps  softly,  ascending  them  two  at  a  time,  and  stood 
above  upon  the  balcony. 

The  figure  which  was  just  now  leaning  upon  the  balustrade  had 
already  disappeared.  It  had  again  stepped  inside.  This  was  fortu- 
nate for  Egino,  since  it  otherwise  must  have  perceived  his  movements 
in  the  garden  below. 

It  was  also  fortunate  for  him  that  the  conversation  within  now  be- 
came so  loudly  heard  that  he,  without  any  care,  could  step  close  to 
the  open  door. 

Here  he  must  stop.  The  beating  of  his  heart  threatened  to  suffo- 
cate him.  He  must  take  breath.  He  heard  the  following  words 
spoken  by  the  voice  of  Corradina  :  — 

"  Fool  that  you  are !  Scorn,  if  you  please,  my  will.  You  have 
seen  enough  of  it,  I  think,  to  fear  it." 

"What  have  I  seen  of  it  ? "  exclaimed  the  voice  of  the  man,  mock- 
ingly. 

It  was  the  voice  of  Livio  Savelli. 

"  What  have  you  seen  of  it  ?  Have  not  you,  all  of  you,  wrestled 
with  me  for  years  —  sought  to  enslave  me  —  mistreated  me  as  if  I 
were  a  bond-woman,  in  order  that  I,  this  wretched  one,  might  be- 
come the  wife  of  your  brother  Luca  ?  Has  my  will  triumphed,  or 
yours  ? " 

"  Praise  yourself  for  that !  If  it  had  not  been  for  my  father,  with 
his  idiotic  passion  for  you " 

"Well,  then,  has  the  idiotic  passion  of  your  father  triumphed  over 
me,  in  spite  of  all  its  efforts  to  break  me  ?  or  has  my  resistance,  my 
will  ? " 

"Not  your  will  has  done  it,  but  mine,  which  assisted  you." 

"Your  assistance  !  Would  I  have  been  obliged,  then,  to  take  hold 
of  the  resolution  to  wed  myself  to  the  dead  Luca,  in  order  thereby, 
once  for  all,  to  escape  the  wooings  of  your  father? " 

"My  father  would  not  have  let  you  marry  the  dead  Luca,  of  that 
be  sure,  if  I  had  not  willed  it, —  if  you  had  not  have  had  my  deter- 
mined help  in  this  resolution." 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  185 

"  It  may  be ;  it  was  foolish  in  me  to  accept  this  assistance,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  suppose  you  were  acting  merely  from  pure  unselfish- 
ness ;  merely  from  the  consideration  that  your  father  must  be  hin- 
dered from  again  taking  a  wife,  and  perhaps  giving  to  you  brothers, 
with  whom  you  would  in  the  future  have  to  share.  I  see  now  you 
acted  with  secret  cunning  from  a  double  selfishness " 

"To  be  sure,"  laughed  Livio,  a  little  constrained.  "I  also  acted  in 
the  hope  that  an  hour  would  come  when  I  could  make  my  service 
count  with  you,  Madame  Corradina ;  what  do  you  wish  ?  We  men 
are  all  selfish,  singly,  doubly,  or  a  hundred-fold.  But  never,  I  think, 
has  a  woman  reproached  a  man  for  being  inflamed  with  love  for  her ; 
for  suing  for  her ;  and  because  he  wishes  to  possess  her.  Such  self- 
ishness lies  now  in  human  nature,  as  in  the  flame  lies  the  nature 
that  what  it  has  laid  hold  of  it  consumes  ;  or  in  the  wave  the  nature 
to  flow  downward,  not  upward." 

"And  as  a  flame  will  you  consume  me?"  she  interposed  disdain- 
fully. "  I  thank  you ! " 

"  I  will  save  you." 

"  Save  !     And  from  whom  ?  " 

"  Can  you  hot  tell  yourself  that  ?  " 

"I  do  not  know  what  threatened  me,— what  forced  me  to  fly  to 
you  for  assistance." 

"You  may  pronounce  that  as  haughtily  as  you  will,  it  cannot,  at 
the  same  time,  be  well  and  peaceful  for  you  around  the  heart." 

"  I  assure  you  my  heart  will  beat  very  quietly  as  soon  as  I  see  you 
depart,"  replied  Corradina. 

"  I  receive  the  confession  gladly  that  my  presence  makes  it  beat 
uneasily,"  answered  Livio,  smiling.  "  It  would  also  be  strange  if  the 
beating  of  mine  did  not  affect  you.  But  can  you  be  sincere  when 
you  say  you  fear  nothing  when  you  are  alone  in  these  broad,  deso- 
late, as  if  depopulated  chambers  of  the  old  castle,  where  no  one  is 
near  you  for  your  company,  for  your  help,  for  your  defense  ? " 

"  I  am  not  alone ;  I  have  my  servants." 

"  Whom  my  father,  who  wished  also  that  you  should  pass  the  year 
of  your  widowhood  in  this  old,  desolate  castle,  sought  out  for  you  1 
They  would  be  a  great  assistance  to  you  !  " 

"  Because  your  father  sought  them  out  for  me  ?  " 

"Corradina,"  now  exclaimed  Livio,  with  elevated  voice,  "you 
cannot  be  so  foolishly  simple  as  you  represent  yourself.  You  know 


1 86  LUTHER    IN   ROME, 

my  father  well  enough  to  know  what  you  have  to  fear  from  his  pas- 
sion for  you." 

"And  what  should  I  have  to  fear  from  him?"  said  Corradina, 
with  a  voice  wherein  were  mingled  ridicule  and  contempt. 

"  Everything,  fool,  just  everything  !  And  strange  that  you  assume 
the  appearance  of  not  fearing  him !  If  you  did  not  fear  him,  why 
did  you  seize  upon  the  expedient,  the  cruel  expedient,  which  would 
•erect  an  insurmountable  barrier  between  you  and  his  desire  to  make 
you  his  wife  ?  Speak.  Why  did  you  declare,  when  Luca  lay  at 
the  point  of  death:  'You  have  wished  to  couple  me  with  him  for 
the  sake  of  my  inheritance.  I  have  resisted,  because  I  despised, 
him.  Now,  since  he  will  die,  let  me  wed  him.  I  am  then  yours, 
and  my  inheritance  is  yours  ! '  Yes,  why  did  you  remain  by  that 
resolution,  when  during  the  preparation  for  the  wedding,  which  my 
father  would  have  opposed,  but  dare  not  from  fear  of  me,  Luca  died 
under  our  hands  ?  " 

"You  know;  you  have  said  why  I  did  it.  Because  I  would  put  an 
end  to  your  father's  importunities.  And  also  because  I,  above  all, 
would  become  the  wife  of  no  man  —  no  man  on  earth.  I  know,  now 
that  I  am  Luca's  widow,  you  will  be  careful  that  no  other,  no 
stranger  approach  me  with  proposals  and  attentions,  and  thus  draw 
away  from  you  what  you  have  devoted  to  yourself  for  the  future." 

"  It  may  be,  it  may  be ;  but  upon  one  thing  you  have  mis- 
reckoned  ? " 

"What  is  that?" 

"When  you  believe  a  step  which  cuts  off  from  my  father  the 
possibility  to  make  you  his  wife,  will  make  an  end  to  his  passion. 
Do  you  really  cherish  this  illusion  ?  The  love  of  a  young  man  is 
a  glow  which  becomes  extinguished  when  it  finds  no  nourishment  : 
the  love  of  an  old  man  is  a  bit  of  the  flame  of  hell,  which  consumes 
and  yet  does  not  die  ;  which  is  never  extinguished  ;  which  no  means 
of  force  extirpates  ;  which  fears  no  means  of  force  ;  which  impels 
to  deeds  of  madness  !  " 

Corradina  was  silent. 

The  mute  shrugging  of  the  shoulders,  the  proud  throwing  back  of 
the  head,  with  which  she  answered  Livio's  speech,  Egino  could  not 
perceive. 

"You  are  alone,"  he  added,  "here  in  these  desolate  chambers,  in 
which  one  could  kill  you  without  your  cry  for  help  reaching  any 
mortal  ear,  or  at  most  that  of  the  servant,  the  old  waiting-woman, 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  187 

who  would  run  away  at  the  first  danger.  Can  it  be  your  desire  to 
remain  at  this  place?" 

"  It  is,"  she  answered  quietly. 

"  Your  desire,"  he  continued  vehemently,  "  to  doze  away  here  your 
days  in  dreadful  solitude  ?  to  pine  away  in  tediousness,  friendless- 
ness,  melancholy?  Impossible!  You  make  no  visits,  you  receive 
very  few  of  them  ;  the  women  who  are  related  or  otherwise  bound  to 
our  house  you  do  not  love,  and  they  do  not  love  you.  You  are  too 
beautiful  and  too  proud  not  to  be  hated  by  them  in  secret.  My  wife, 
who  should  be  a  sister  to  you  — well,  we  know  her,  truly!  The  con- 
dition of  widowhood  binds  you  to  the  house.  There  are  for  you  no 
feasts,  no  gay  society,  no  rides  in  the  free  air  here, —  nothing,  truly 
nothing  !  Can  your  books,  your  embroidery,  compensate  you  for  all 
this  ?  It  is  impossible  !  And  it  is  your  duty  to  tear  yourself  away 
from  this  destiny.  You  will  at  the  Castle  Savello  find  everything 
which  can  pleasantly  shorten  the  time  for  you  ;  I  will  sacrifice  my 
whole  life  for  you ;  all  my  hours  shall  be  devoted  to  you,  to  the  effort 
to  make  the  time  pass  gently  by  as  a  happy  dream  to  you.  We  will 
invite  our  friends  there  ;  we  will  give  feasts ;  we  will  chase  the  stag  in 
the  Albanian  Mountains ;  hold  regattas  upon  the  Lake  of  Nemi " 

"  Cherish  good  neighborship  with  the  Colonna  at  Palliano,"  threw 
in  Corradina,  tauntingly. 

"  Also  that,  if  you  will,"  replied  Livio,  coolly.  "  My  wife  knows 
she  has  lost  the  right  to  lift  a  protest  against  my  inclinations.  My 
wife !"  he  added,  with  a  peculiar  tone  of  most  bitter  contempt. 

"  Your  wife,  Livio,  was  once  good  and  noble !  She  was  a  proud 
nature,  — too  proud  for  the  impure.  You  have  broken  her  pride,  and 
what  she  is  now,  that  is,  in  short,  your  work  —  then  truly  also  that 
of  your  customs,  of  the  ways  and  dealings  of  you  all.  And  do  you 
know  I  have  taken  her  for  an  example  for  myself  ?  " 

"  You  ?     An  example  from  her  ?  " 

"Yes,  from  her,  —  from  her  fate.  I  said  to  myself  that  I  would  not 
let  take  place  in  me  what  has  taken  place  in  her.  I  will  not.  I  will 
not  become  the  wife  of  one  of  these  men  of  whom  none  of  them  all 
is  better  than  Livio.  I  will  not  let  myself  be  mastered,  be  broken, 
by  any  one  of  them,  —  be  led  into  the  mire  of  their  sins.  I  cannot  live 
with  them  ;  I  will  not  let  the  white  garment  of  my  soul  be  drawn 
away,  to  be  pulled  into  the  naked  orgies  of  their  immoral  thoughts, 
the  filth  of  their  revelings.  I  have  not  your  faith  that  I,  when  I 
have  spotted  my  soul  with  a  sin,  have  only  to  call  to  a  priest  of  the 


1 88  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

piazza,  to  read  me  a  mass,  or  to  hang  somewhere  a  jewel  before  the 
Madonna  in  Sant  Agostino,  or  buy  me  an  indulgence,  .and  all  is 
good !  Your  God  may  thereby  become  reconciled  to  me,  but  I  will 
not  thereby  become  reconciled  to  myself.  And  as  I  have  not  your 
faith,  I  cannot  have  love  for  you.  So  my  course  was  determined.  It 
was  not  merely  the  helplessness  of  the  moment  which  impelled  me ; 
not  merely  to  make  it  impossible  for  your  father  to  force  me  to  his 
will.  Let  me  once  be  the  wife  of  the  dead  Luca,  and  his  widow, 
then  I  would  be  free  from  every  wooing  for  all  time.  You  will,  from 
now  on,  find  means  to  keep  at  a  distance  from  me  the  wooing  of 
•every  other  man." 

"That  last  you  have  now  already  thrown  up  to  me  the  second 
time,  and  so  bitterly  that  it  sounds  as  if  it  were  not  much  after  your 
mind,"  remarked  Livio,  jeeringly. 

"I  throw  up  nothing  to  you  except  your  avarice,  —  the  avarice  with 
which  your  father  has  taken  possession  of  my  inheritance ;  with 
which  you  became  my  ally  against  your  father,  in  order  thereby  to 
make  impossible  to  him  something  which  could  at  some  time  lessen 
your  estate." 

"  I  became  your  ally,  Corradina,  because  I  saw  it  was  your  wish  ; 
and  your  wish  goes  beyond  everything  for  me." 

"  My  wish  is  that  you  leave  me  ;  that  you  never  again  speak  to 
me  as  to-day ;  that  you  leave  me  here  to  spin  out,  quietly  and  peace- 
fully, the  days  of  my  year  of  widowhood.  Do  you  hear,  Livio  ?  That 
is  my  wish.  Let  it  be  said  to  you,  compel  me  not  to  withdraw  myself 
somewhere  into  a  cloister ;  cloisters  are  hateful  to  me.  And  now 
go!" 

"  Not  yet.  A  peace  is  concluded  only  when  each  surrenders  some- 
thing of  his  will.  Submit  your  will  to  mine  in  that  you  follow  me 
to  the  Castle  Savello ;  then  I  will  there  submit  mine  to  yours,  and 
not  trouble  you  with  my  importunity." 

"  I  would  be  very  foolish  if  I  believed  you." 

"  I  will  swear  it  to  you." 

"  I  do  not  believe  in  your  oaths." 

"And  also  not  in  the  danger  which  threatens  you  here?  " 

"I  believe  in  the  danger,  and  also  in  my  power  to  defy  it." 

"  Will,  power,  defiance,  —  truly  you  show  best  that  you  are 
nothing  but  a  weak  woman,  even  by  the  haughtiness  with  which  you 
throw  about  you  these  words  f  Suppose  I  now  laugh  at  your  defi- 
ance, and  break  your  will  ?  " 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  189 

He  stepped  up  to  her  and  stretched  out  his  arm  toward  her. 

"Do  not  touch  me,  or  I  shall  call  for  help ! " 

"  Call ;  you  will  see  whether  any  one  hears  you  !  " 

He  grasped  her  by  the  upper  arm,  but  quick  as  lightning  she  tore 
from  him  and  fled  out  on  the  balcony. 

"  You  can  hasten  down,"  exclaimed  Livio,  following  her  quickly, 
"but  the  garden  is  locked." 

"  I  can  throw  myself  over  the  balustrade  and  kill  myself,"  replied 
Corradina,  stepping  to  it;  "perhaps  I  can  also  hurl  you  over." 

"To  that,"  he  exclaimed  angrily,  stretching  out  his  arm  to  enclasp 
her  and  snatch  her  back,  "to  that  your  strength  does  not  suffice !  " 

"But  mine  does,  I  think!"  here  said  Egino,  emerging  from  the 
shadow,  and  suddenly  standing  near  Livio,  whom  he  had  as  suddenly 
seized  by  the  neck  with  a  powerful  grasp,  and  snatched  to  himself. 

"Count  Ortenburg — you!"  exclaimed  Corradina,  frightened, 
struggling  for  breath.  "Is  it  you?  Oh  !  stop,  stop!" 

She  uttered  this  exclamation  because  Egino  now  also,  with  his 
other  hand,  seized  Livio  in  the  side,  and  lifted  him  up  as  a  light 
burden, —  as  if  he  would,  in  truth,  hurl  him  over  the  balustrade  of 
the  balcony  into  the  depth  below. 

"Stop,  stop  !"  she  exclaimed,  laying  hold  of  Egino's  arm  with  both 
hands,  as  if  to  tear  him  loose  from  his  victim.  "  I  command  you  to 
do  it !  " 

"  If  you  com " 

Egino  did  not  finish ;  he  suddenly  drew  himself  together.  Livio, 
who  kept  his  hands  free,  had  won  time  after  the  first  shock  to  grasp 
after  his  dagger,  and  with  it  make  a  thrust.  The  blade  now  for  the 
first  time  became  visible,  gleaming  in  the  light,  when  Livio  drew  it 
out  and  again  lifted  it  to  inflict  upon  Egino  a  second  stroke. 

Egino  evaded  it,  at  the  same  time  clutching  after  the  balustrade 
with  his  left  hand,  in  order  to  support  himself.  In  the  same  instant 
Corradina  was  between  him  and  Livio. 

"Demon  !  "  gnashed  Livio  with  his  teeth.  "Away  from  there,  or 
it  strikes  you  with  him." 

Corradina  held  in  her  grasp  the  wrist  of  his  uplifted  hand;  they 
struggled  together. 

The  young  woman  seemed,  in  this  moment,  to  possess  more 
strength  than  the  man ;  the  latter  let  the  dagger  fall,  and  with  a 
sudden  turn  ran  from  them. 

"  Save  yourself,  save  yourself,  Egino  !  "  exclaimed  Corradina,  now. 


190  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  He  will  bring  people,  and  they  will  kill  you,  as  certainly  as  those 
stars  twinkle  above  us." 

"  If  they  kill  me,  I  shall  die  with  the  thought  that  I  lose  my  life 
for  your  sake." 

"  What  help  would  that  be  to  me  ?  Oh  !  away,  only  away  !  Flee ! 
Are  you  wounded  ?  " 

"Here  in  the  side,"  whispered  Egino,  in  return.  "I  feel  no  pain, 
but  the  warm  blood." 

"And  still  you  must  flee  instantly!  O  my  God,  how  dreadful! 
If  you  could  flee,  flee  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  I  should  like  to  flee 
with  you  out  of  this  horror!  Still,  away,  away;  if  this  wretch  had 
not  himself  removed  the  servants  to  a  distance,  they  would  already 
be  here  to  murder  you." 

She  seized  his  arm  and  drew  him  away  with  her ;  he  moved  with 
feeble  steps.  Now  that  he  moved,  he  felt  a  violent  pain  in  his  side. 

They  had  reached  the  entrance  of  the  stair-cased  tower,  when  he 
said  :  — 

"  Shall  I  there  below  climb  over  the  wall  ?  I  will  not  be  in  a  con- 
dition for  that." 

"No,  no!"  she  exclaimed.  "Did  you  come  over  the  wall — not 
through  the  gate  ?  " 

"The  gate  is  shut;  I  came  over  the  wall." 

"  O  my  God,  how  bad  that  is  !     Stay,  —  wait  here  ! 

To  keep  from  falling  over,  he  leaned  against  the  wall  near  the 
entrance  to  the  stair-tower ;  she  flew  back.  After  a  few  minutes 
she  was  near  him  again. 

"  I  have  the  key,"  she  said  ;  "now  away  !  " 

Supported  by  her,  he  reached  the  steps  below,  then  passed  through 
the  garden.  When  they  had  fortunately  arrived  at  the  little  gate, 
heavy,  hastening  steps  already  rang  out  on  the  stone  plates  of  the 
balcony  above.  With  trembling  hand  Corradina  unlocked  the  gate  in 
the  wall  and  pushed  Egino  through,  pressed  the  key  into  his  hands, 
and  hastily  ejaculated  :  — 

"  Take  it,  — take  the  key  with  you,  or  they  will  wrest  it  from  me." 

She  then  banged  the  heavy  little  door  to,  behind  Egino. 

Livio  and  the  servants  who  followed  him  came  too  late.  Livio 
pushed  Corradina  back  from  the  door. 

"  The  key,  or  I  will  throttle  you  ! "  Livio,  in  unutterable  fury, 
gnashed  from  between  his  teeth,  pressing  the  wrist  of  her  hand  as  in 
a  cramping-iron. 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  191 

She  tore  her  hand  away,  and  turning  to  go,  she  said :  — 
"  Look  for  it !     I  threw  it  far  from  me  into  the  garden  ! " 
She  stepped  away. 

The  servants  rushed  to  about  the  place  in  the  garden  that  she  had 
indicated.  Two  persons  with  flaming  torches  now  came  hastening 
over  the  balcony.  The  servants  below  called  to  them  to  aid  in  the 
search.  Livio  stood  with  angrily  heaving  breast,  breathing  audibly. 
A  moment  he  watched  the  servants  in  the  search,  then  he  hurled  out 
an  oath. 

"  Blockheads  !  "  he  said.     "  She  would  not  have  told  us  the  truth !  " 
And  then  following  Corradina,  he  whispered  to  himself :  — 
"This  is,  then,  the  cause  of  her  resistance !     This  is  why  she  would 
stay  so  defiantly  in  this  house !     A  man  concealed  in  this  garden ! 
Corpo  della  Madonna  !     A  man  whom  she  loves  !     The  wretch  !      To 
the  monks,  now  !  " 

Livio  called  to  the  torch-bearers  ;  they  must  pass  up  the  tower 
stairs  back  into  the  castle,  through  the  chambers  and  corridors  there 
above,  finally  into  the  little  passage  connecting  the  castle  with  the 
cloister.  In  the  cloister  everything  was  buried  in  profound  repose. 
Livio  sounded  an  alarm.  He  aroused  some  of  the  monks.  Drowzily 
the  lay  brethren  heard  it,  and  came  in  response.  They  began  to 
search  ;  Egino's  cell  was  empty,  so  they  hastened  into  the  garden. 
Here  they  found  the  wounded  man  lying  helpless  upon  the  terrace. 
Livio  desired  to  remove  him  into  the  castle.  The  monks,  in  spite  of 
Livio's  rage  and  wild  threatenings  of  death,  took  him  into  their 
protection.  During  the  contention  which  took  place  about  it  the 
lay  brethren  bore  him  into  his  cell,  and  brought  to  him  the  Padre 
Infirmario.  Livio's  commands,  threats,  ranting,  prevailed  not  over 
these  monks.  He  must  go  back  frothing  with  rage.  He  had  only, 
by  the  noise  which  he  made,  rescued  Egino  from  the  fate  of  remain- 
ing prostrate  on  the  terrace  all  night  to  bleed  to  death  from  his 
wound.  Now  the  Padre  Infirmario  stood  by  his  couch  intent  upon 
rendering  him  aid  ;  washed  his  deeply  gaping  wound,  which  extended 
in  his  right  side  diagonally  over  several  ribs  ;  and  had  brought  to 
him  probes  and  bandages  by  Brother  Alessio. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE   INQUISITOR   OF   HERETICAL   DEPRAVITY. 

|HE  order  of  the  Dominicans  had  two  cloisters  in  Rome ; 
that  of  Santa  Sabina,  and  that  of  Sopra  Minerva,  lying 
down  in  the  city,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Pantheon. 
In  the  latter  dwelt  the  general  of  the  order,  the  worthy 
Fra  Thomas  de  Vio ;  the  man  who  became  so  celebrated  in  Germany ; 
to  whom  Pope  Leo  X.  lent  the  cardinal's  robe  and  the  see  of  Gaeta; 
who  also,  as  cardinal  legate  Cajetan,  showed  himself,  at  the  diet  of 
Augsburg,  so  unyielding  and  implacable  ;  and  who  yet,  from  contact 
with  the  great  German  reformer,  returned  home  with  thoughts  which 
drew  upon  himself  later  the  condemnation  of  his  writings  by  the 
Sarbonne. 

In  the  cloister  of  Santa  Sabina  was  the  highest  dignitary,  the 
Inquisitor  Padre  Geronimo. 

Padre  Geronimo  was  a  perfect  contrast  to  the  slender  Padre 
Eustachio,  the  latter  bearing  in  every  feature  the  type  of  the 
southerner.  He  towered  half  a  head  above  the  latter ;  he  was 
built  with  a  large  frame,  had  a  full,  red-brown  face  with  hanging 
cheeks. 

Padre  Geronimo  was  a  Swiss,  according  to  descent,  from  the 
Rhaetian  part  of  Helvetia. 

On  the  following  morning  he  stood  in  the  cloister  passage  leading 
into  the  Church  of  Santa  Sabina,  on  the  point  of  repairing,  in  com- 
pany with  Father  Eustachius,  to  the  early  divine  service  in  the  choir 
of  the  monks. 

On  the  way  hither  he  was  detained,  laid  hold  of,  by  the  Duke  of 
Aricia  and  his  eldest  son  Livio. 

They  had  talked  to  him  very  vehemently ;  the  Inquisitor  had  then 
let  Padre  Eustachio  give  information  minutely,  and  thereupon  had 
said  :  — 

"You  hear  it.      Father  Eustachius  tells  you,  as  he   has  already 

192 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  193 

yesterday  made  known  to  me,  that  this  German  has  brought  over 
the  threshold  of  this  convent  a  disguised  maiden,  into  this  sacred 
cloister.  Not  to  consider  his  heretical  speeches,  his  design  to 
deceive  us  as  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing,  his  lies,  that  sacrilege  alone 
makes  him  answerable  to  our  court  of  inquisition.  There  is  no  other 
jurisdiction  which  takes  precedence  of  ours,  not  even  yours  ;  and 
had  he  transgressed  tenfold  worse  your  domestic  authority,  Your  Ex- 
cellency, I  would  yet  not  be  able  to  consent  to  have  him  delivered 
over  to  you." 

"We  must  submit  ourselves  to  that,"  said  Livio,  thereupon,  with  a 
face  evincing  displeasure,  "if  you  promise  us  that  the  manner  with 
which  you  deal  with  him  grants  to  us  full  satisfaction." 

"We  will  deal  with  him  according  to  justice  and  according  to  the 
law.  The  law  has  strong  measures  against  the  hard-hearted  and  the 
impenitent ;  mild,  however,  toward  the  penitent,"  replied  the  In- 
quisitor, with  coolness  and  dignity. 

"And  those  who  act  merely  in  youthful  passion  and  thoughtless- 
ness," added  Father  Eustachius,  looking  at  the  ground. 

"Correct  —  toward  fools,"  said  Father  Geronimo. 

The  Duke  of  Aricia,  with  his  agitated  face,  whose  muscles  were 
convulsed  with  inner  excitement,  looked,  with  his  keen,  piercing  eyes, 
at  the  head  of  the  order.  He  did  not  understand  this  man,  and  the 
latter's  cold  indifference  stimulated  in  him  the  aroused  fury,  the  jeal- 
ous hatred,  with  which  he  wished  to  see  Egino  instantly  subjected  to 
a  thousand  deaths.  He  did  not  comprehend  how  these  saints  could  be 
so  cool,  where  he,  the  knight,  stood  so  much  in  flames.  .What  cun- 
ning was  hid  in  these  monks  that  they  would  not,  with  willing  sub- 
mission to  him,  deliver  up  this  criminal  to  the  house  of  Savelli  ? 
And  if  they  wished  to  reserve  him  to  their  judgment  as  a  criminal 
against  the  church,  as  a  heretic,  what  could  they  then  have  against 
incarcerating  or  burning  him  to-day  to  .please  the  duke  ? 

The  Duke  of  Aricia  did  not  consider  the  fact  that  he,  although  a 
duke,  was  yet  only  one  of  the  laity,  and  that  the  church  likes  to 
manage  its  affairs  without  the  protest  or  advice  of  the  laity.  He 
also  did  not  say  to  himself  that  Egino  must  possess  in  Father  Eusta- 
chius a  natural  protector,  whose  humble  utterances,  thrown  out  in 
subdued  tones,  had  much  more  weight  with  Father  Geronimo  than 
all  the  heated  speeches  of  the  two  Savelli.  Father  Eustachius  had 
already  on  the  evening  before  broken,  in  presence  of  the  prior  and 
the  inquisitor,  his  previous  silence  about  Egino  :  he  had  received  a 


194  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

rebuke  that  he  had  not  earlier  made  these  communications.  He  had 
through  his  forbearance  with  the  young  man  burdened  himself  with 
a  sin ;  but  this  sin  of  human  sympathy  with  Egino,  this  indulgence 
and  mildness  became  so  much  the  less  and  so  much  the  more  par- 
donable, the  less  Egino's  guilt  was  ;  and  it  was  also  only  natural  that 
Father  Eustachius  represent  this  last  in  a  mild  light.  He  had  told 
all  that  could  be  charged  against  Egino,  but  he  had  also  not  kept  si- 
lent that  he  considered  it  the  consequence  of  the  idiotic  passion  of 
the  young  man  for  Corradina  ;  and  therefore  was  the  great  Inquisitor 
of  heretical  depravity,  the  saint,  so  cool  toward  the  strong  pressure 
of  the  knight. 

"Do  you  consider  him  a  fool  ? "  exclaimed  the  latter,  after  the  last 
words  of  the  monk,  —  "  he  who  came  to  you  with  the  intention  of 
thanks  for  the  hospitality  you  granted  him,  to  accuse  one  of  your 
number,  and  thus  to  bring  upon  your  whole  order  ignominy  and 
shame  ? " 

"  So  it  is,"  said  the  Inquisitor ;  "  that  is,  alas  !  this  young  man's 
offense ;  but  since  it  appears  not  a  depraved  spirit  has  impelled  him 
to  it,  but  the  transient  weakness  of  the  flesh,  the  mind-dethroning 
passion  for  a  woman,  upon  whose  power,  indeed,  more  than  half  of 
the  sinfulness  of  the  world  rests,  so  we  must  judge  with  mildness  the 
misdeeds  of  this  German." 

"I  am  astonished  at  this  mildness  of  yours,  Padre  Geronimo," 
here  put  in  Livio.  "  Let  his  sinfulness  rest  upon  what  ground  it  will, 
do  not  forget  that  the  audacity  of  the  evil-doer  went  so  far  as  to 
order  for  himself  a  German  monk  whom  he  would  introduce  into  our 
house  secretly,  without  our  knowledge.  What  was  this  monk  for?  — 
for  what  purpose  was  he  ordered  ?  Was  he  probably  to  wed  this 
bold  man  to  Corradina  ?  Would  he  then  take  her  away  ?  Would  he 
flee  with  her  over  the  Alps  ?  Against  elopement  is  Corradina 
assured  at  this  hour ;  yet  your  mildness  with  such  plans  and  auda- 
cious strokes  seems  to  me  out  of  place  ! " 

"What  is  in  place,  Count  Livio,"  responded  Padre  Geronimo,  "we 
must  consider,  and  decide  accordingly,  as  we  are  the  lawful  judges 
of  the  man." 

"  And  we  who  are,  as  well  as  you,  trespassed  upon  and  insulted  by 
him  — are  we,  I  mean,  to  have  a  voice  in  it !  "  exclaimed  the  duke. 

"  Certainly,"  responded  the  Inquisitor,  with  an  affirmative  nod  of 
the  head  and  a  fatherly  tone.  "  You  have  a  voice  in  it,  and,  as  you 
see,  we  hear  it  now.  When  has  our  order  not  listened  in  all  things 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  195 

to  the  voice  of  the  Savelli  ?  I  think  there  was  a  proof  of  this  re- 
cently, when  we  yielded  to  you  in  spite  of  serious  scruples  in  that 
affair,  and  were  accommodating  wherein  you  so  urgently  desired  of 
us  a  service ;  you  know  —  in  that  wedding  consummated  by  means  of 
one  of  our  brethren,  which  now  exposes  us  to  danger,  as  this  case 
with  the  young  German  proves." 

"You  must  also  reflect,  Your  Excellency,"  remarked  Father 
Eustachius,  half-aloud,  "  that  the  young  man  concerned  appears  to 
belong  to  a  princely  house  in  Germany ;  and  that  our  order  has  be- 
yond the  Alps  houses  and  numerous  brethren,  for  whom  it  would  not 
be  well  done  to  expose  them  to  the  vengence  of  powerful  lords." 

"Ah  !  does  the  wind  blow  that  way ! "  murmured  Livio,  displeased, 
to  himself. 

The  duke  said  :  — 

"  I  hope  to  be  able  to  satisfy  you  in  regard  to  that.  The  young 
man  is  not  without  acquaintances  here  ;  and  as  to  what  pertains  to 
his  transalpine  princeliness  and  its  importance,  I  can  draw  out 
information  from  them." 

With  this  the  interview  of  the  men  was  broken  off.  The  Savelli 
betook  themselves  again  to  their  castle,  and  on  their  way  home  the 
duke  said  :  — 

"  These  priests  !  They  have  no  higher  interest  than  their  lust  for 
power !  Therefore  they  draw  away  from  us  the  man  who  yet, 
according  to  all  right,  should  have  fallen  in  our  jurisdiction  ;  and 
they  will  not  act  against  him,  because  it  might  appear  they  obey 
us  therein." 

"  So  it  is,"  responded  Livio.  "  It  would  be  best  if  we  should  take 
the  German  from  them  by  stratagem  or  force,  and  make  him  harm- 
less in  our  way." 

"The  best — but  it  would  be  difficult,"  replied  the  duke. 
41  Through  force?  Their  vaults  are  fast,  and  to  break  in  openly 
we  dare  not.  And  through  cunning  ?  Do  you  contend  in  arti- 
fice with  such  a  band  of  priests  ? " 

"  Priestly  cunning  is  woman's  cunning  grown  up." 

"That  means " 

"  I  think  Corradina  would  not  refuse  to  free  the  man  who,  on  her 
account,  has  fallen  into  this  situation." 

"What  a  thought!"  exclaimed  the  duke.  "I  do  not  wish  her 
again  to  hear  a  syllable  from  this  man." 


196  LUTHER  .IN  ROME. 

"  It  will  be  meditated  upon,"  replied  Livio,  thoughtfully,  and  as  if 
not  hearing  the  words  of  his  father. 

"  Do  you  hear  ?     I  will  not  have  it !  "  repeated  the  latter,  loudly. 

"What  can  it  help  that  she  nevermore  hears  from  him,  since  she 
will  still  think  of  him  enough  ?  Leave  the  business  to  me,  father. 
It  is  best  this  man  be  dealt  with  quickly  aside ;  and  since  we  cannot 
get  possession  of  him  by  force,  we  must  see  if  we  cannot,  in  some 
way,  get  him  out  of  the  hands  of  the  monks  into  our  own  through 
stratagem.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  he  would  most  willingly  and 
most  without  suspicion  surrender  himself  to  the  guidance  of  Corra- 
dina." 

"  And  can  you  send  her  into  his  prison,  that  she  may  lead  him 
out  and  deliver  him  into  our  hands  ?  " 

"Let  me  think  about  it." 

Father  and  son  separated.  The  former  strode  through  the  castle, 
and  reached  its  court.  He  had  brought  before  him  a  saddled  horse, 
in  order  to  ride  upon  it  to  Callisto  Minucci,  and  with  him  have  that 
short  conversation  whose  import  we  know,  and  which  had  caused 
Callisto,  as  we  saw,  to  repair  to  the  residence  of  Egino,  the  next 
morning,  still  anxious. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THOUGHTS  OF  A  GERMAN  MONK. 

GINO'S  three  friends,  two  clays  after  the  feast  of  Messer 
Agostino  Chigi,  found  themselves  together  at  the  dwell- 
ing of  Egino,  each  without  having  discovered  a  trace  of  the 
missing.  They  talked  much  about  whether  it  was  to  be 
supposed  he  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Savelli,  or  was  held  a 
prisoner  by  the  -monks.  In  the  former  case  it  was  easier  to  obtain 
information  about  his  destiny  than  in  the  latter,  where  it  had  fallen 
into  darkness  and  secrecy.  Callisto  was  of  the  opinion  that  the 
latter  was  the  case. 

"The  duke,"  he  said,  "would  not  have  drawn  out  information 
from  me,  if  Egino  had  been  in  his  power.  What  would  he  care 
about  the  young  man's  kin  ?  The  monks,  however,  have  grounds  to 
be  careful.  Their  cloisters  are  scattered  all  over  the  world.  If 
Egino's  nearest  relatives  are  powerful  landlords,  in  whose  territories 
are  cloisters  of  the  order,  these  last  might  have  to  feel  severely  what- 
ever evil  the  brethren  in  Rome  might  do  to  Egino.  Only  this  con- 
sideration could  lie  at  the  bottom  of  the  inquiries  of  the  duke." 

Callisto  then  informed  them  how  he,  true  to  the  task  taken  upon 
himself,  had  not  restricted  his  quiet  investigations  to  the  cloister, 
but  through  many  kinds  of  means  and  in  ways  standing  open  to  him 
as  the  legal  friend  of  the  Savelli,  he  had  sought  to  obtain  information 
about  all  that  had  taken  place,  or  was  still  going  on  in  their  different 
houses.  The  threads  which  he  had  knit  together  extended  over  the 
castle  upon  the  Aventine,  over  the  palace  of  the  Montanara,  over  the 
Castle  bei  Albano,  over  the  Corte  Savella  in  the  Via  Giulia.  The 
only  definite  result  that  he  could  acquaint  them  with  was,  that  Egino 
had  been  led  neither  into  the  dungeon  of  this  Corte  Savella  nor  to 
the  Castle  bei  Albano. 

Brother  Martin  had  drawn  into  his  confidence  a  few  of  the  breth- 
ren of  the  order,  who  had  promised  him  to  approach  the  brethren  of 

1 97 


198  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

the  order  of  Saint  Dominicus,  and  to  elicit  information.  He  had 
heard  from  them  that  everything  belonging  to  the  Sant  Uffizio  re- 
mained covered  in  darkness  and  silence ;  still  it  appeared  so  much  the 
more  certain  that  Egino's  affair  had  not,  up  to  this  time,  been  pend- 
ing before  it. 

Irmgard  had  in  vain  by  day,  and  almost  still  more  in  the  hours  of 
late  evening  and  of  breaking  day,  watched,  circled  around,  and  guarded 
the  Aventine.  Often  had  she  allowed  herself  to  be  accompanied  by 
Gotz  ;  often,  also,  had  she  gone  alone,  impelled  thither  by  her  uneasi- 
ness. She  appeared  pale  and  exhausted.  The  boy's  clothing,  which 
she  then  wore  for  the  sake  of  safety,  had  become  large  for  her  and  in 
folds.  Her  eyes  had  something  peculiarly  unsteady;  the  sun,  the 
air,  the  inner  unrest,  which  had  laid  hold  of  her  countenance  and 
given  to  it  an  expression  of  suspense,  had  marred  her  pretty  fea- 
tures :  she  was  much  disfigured. 

She  spoke  little  in  the  assembly  of  Egino's  friends  ;  the  fearful 
idea  had  taken  fast  hold  of  her  that  Egino  had  been  killed.  She  let 
the  men  hold  counsel  over  the  further  steps  they  would  take ;  she 
had  the  horrible  presentment  that  all  was  too  late,  all  in  vain. 

"There  is  only  one  way,"  she  said  at  last,  "to  obtain  certain  infor- 
mation,—  which  is  to  force  one's  way  to  the  woman  for  whose 
sake  Egino  has  risked  all.  She  cannot  be  indifferent  to  his  destiny ; 
she  must,  as  we,  wish  to  see  him  saved ;  at  least,  she  owes  to  us  the 
truth." 

"You  are  right,"  replied  Callisto  ;  "but  I  would  not  advise  you  to 
make  the  attempt  to  reach  her.  I  have  already  requested  my  wife, 
Donna  Ottavia,  to  go  to  the  castle  on  the  Aventine,  and  there  ask 
that  they  lead  her  to  the  Donna  Corradina  Savelli.  But  they  have 
rudely  turned  her  away.  They  have  said  to  her  that  the  Countess 
Corradina  is  not  in  the  castle,  not  in  Rome ;  that  she  has  withdrawn 
to  the  Castle  bei  Albano.  Since  I  know  now  that  this  is  not  the 
case,  it  is  clearly  to  be  inferred  from  this  that  they  hold  Corradina 
in  a  kind  of  seclusion  or  imprisonment ;  and  from  this  it  follows,  fur- 
thermore, that  they  suspect  her,  —  that  they  charge  to  her  a  partici- 
pation in  Egino's  venture, — and  that  you  will  hope  in  vain  to  have 
a  better  chance  than  my  wife." 

Irmgard  did  not  answer ;  she  folded  her  hands  in  her  lap  and 
looked  down  reflectively. 

"The  worst  is,"  continued  Callisto,  "that  we  have  not  the  least 
prospect  to  win  in  any  way  the  intercession  of  a  powerful  and  high- 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  199 

standing  man.  We  cannot  go  to  Padre  Anselmo,  because  we  have 
nothing  definite  to  ask  of  him.  We  can  also  not  represent  Egino 
to  any  one  as  innocent ;  and  if  he  were,  or  if  one  were  able  to  repre- 
sent the  thoughtlessness  with  which  he  believed  himself  able  to  de- 
ceive the  monks  as  a  pardonable,  youthful  want  of  consideration, 
there  is  yet  no  one  who,  for  his  sake  or  ours,  would  like  by  an  inter- 
cession to  make  the  monks  of  Santa  Sabina  trouble,  and  mix  them- 
selves with  the  affairs  of  Sant  Uffizio.  The  Holy  Father  himself 
•does  not  meddle  there." 

"And  I — and  I !  "  said  Irmgard,  in  deep  despair,  in  a  low  tone  to 
herself,  "who  brought  him,  by  my  advice,  by  my  assistance,  into  all 
this  misfortune ! " 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  "  asked  Brother  Martin. 

"  That  we  ourselves  must  save  him,  —  we,  we,  his  only  friends,  if  it 
is  not  too  late  !" 

"No,  no;  that  it  is  not,  believe  me,"  remarked  Callisto.  "Egino 
is  held  in  durance  by  the  monks ;  and  if  the  monks  torture,  they 
torture  long.  They  hasten  over  nothing." 

The  conversation  ended  with  the  vow  of  the  three  not  to  be  will- 
ing to  leave  off  their  search,  and  to  wish,  after  some  days,  to  find 
themselves  again  together  at  Egino's  dwelling,  for  further  con- 
ference. Then  they  separated,  Irmgard  going  alone  to  the  little 
house  on  the  Quirinal,  in  which  she  had  found  a  residence  with  her 
uncle  ;  Callisto  and  Brother  Martin  going  together,  since  Callisto, 
in  order  to  go  home,  must  pass  Brother  Martin's  stopping-place  in 
Santo  Maria  del  Popolo. 

They  walked  along  together  awhile  in  silence. 

"  If  they  do  yet  mar  for  me  here  this  pure,  noble  blood,  this  off- 
shoot of  German  princes,"  exclaimed  Brother  Martin  after  awhile, 
"so,  so " 

"  You  do  not  finish,"  said  Callisto. 

"What  is  the  use,  Signore  Callisto,"  replied  Brother  Martin. 
""  You  even  do  not  understand  what  there  is  here  to  turn  a  German 
spirit  round  and  round.  Since  you  recently  took  me  into  the  sin- 
pool  of  your  feast,  it  seems  to  me  that  I  must  also  hate  yon." 

Signer  Callisto  smiled  quietly,  and  with  an  expression  of  superi- 
ority, as  he  answered  :  — 

"  Do  I  bear  the  blame,  good  brother,  if  you,  in  this  Eternal  City, 
which  still  remains  always  eternal,  find  so  much  that  is  different 
from  what  you  honorable  Germans  there  at  home  imagined  it  ? " 


200  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  Yes,  so  it  is,"  said  Brother  Martin,  bitterly.  "They  should  for- 
bid us  to  make  pilgrimages  to  Rome.  There  is  much  here  different 
from  what  we  believe  it  in  Germany.  There  goes  as  if  a  deep  rent 
through  my  soul,  now  I  perceive  so  clearly  how  men  live  in  Rome ; 
how  they  who  have  the  power  act  as  the  heathen,  and  they  who 
think,  think  as  the  heathen.  Even  you  yourself,  also.  It  is  as  if  a 
band  of  robbers  had  entered  and  taken  possession  of  a  beautiful  and 
dazzling  palace  built  for  the  mildly  ruling  father  of  the  land,  and 
from  thence  were  exercising  sway  over  the  land.  And  as  'like 
prince,  like  people,'  there  is  no  more  any  restraint,  and  almost  no 
hope.  That  confuses  my  thoughts ;  and  when  I  sit  in  my  cell  review- 
ing the  things  I  experience  here,  it  oppresses  me  sorely,  and  I  cry 
out,  '  Lord,  Lord,  what  must  be  done  in  order  to  drive  out  the  robbers 
who  have  broken  down  thy  sanctuary,  have  drunken  out  of  thy  cups,, 
and  have  intoxicated  themselves  with  wine  out  of  the  vessels  of  thy 
altar  ? '  And  because  I  am  deprived  of  breath,  I  hasten  out  into  the 
open  air  and  throw  myself  down  upon  the  barren  heights,  and  look 
down  upon  this  great  gravestone  of  history  —  this  Rome!  Is  it 
destined,  also,  to  become  the  gravestone  of  all  that  constitutes  the 
religious  connection  of  humanity  with  their  God  ?  Shall  the  faith 
be  buried  here  where  the  Apostles  are  buried  ?  Shall  the  basilicas, 
at  some  future  time,  stand  there  exposed  to  the  winds  and  weather, 
robbed  of  their  roofs  by  the  storms,  clothed  with  wild  vines,  the 
marble  of  their  pavements  overgrown  with  luxuriant  nettles,  just  as, 
now  stand  the  temples  of  Pcestum  and  of  Agrigentum,  —  monuments 
of  a  dead  thought-world,  supulchers  of  ideas,  which  we  no  longer 
grasp?  Shall  the  world  sometime  smile  over  the  saint,  as  we  now 
ridicule  the  misconceptions  of  our  childhood  ?  Will  the  world  give. 
up  its  adoption  by  God  as  a  childish  dream  ? " 

Callisto  looked  at  him,  surprised  at  the  warmth  of  this  outburst. 

"And  if  it  should  come  to  that  ? "  he  then  said  earnestly,  and  as  if 
meditating.  "The  church  has  become  a  worldly  institution,  and 
everything  worldly,  earthly  falls  to  pieces, —  everything!" 

"You  say  that  so  calmly!  Oh!  imagine  it,  even — the  world  un- 
christianized  !  Think  of  it !  The  churches  only  ruins  !  The  bells 
silent :  no  more  those  which  ring  out  for  you  the  evening  blessing ; 
no  more  those  which  call  you  to  a  love-feast  with  all  the  brethren ;; 
no  more  the  Easter  bells,  which  ring  into  your  life  its  consecration 
and  comfort ;  no  more  a  choral  song,  which  speaks  over  your  grave 
of  the  promise  of  resurrection  ;  no  more  a  tone  sounding  out  into. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  201 

your  burdened  life  from  the  eternal  kingdom  of  faith ;  no  more  a 
priesthood,  to  bless  your  entrance  into  life,  none  to  bless  the  bond  of 
your  love ;  no  one  into  whose  silent  breast  you  can  pour  out  a  sin ! 
No  more  talk  of  God,  of  the  world  beyond,  of  the  Father's  hand 
which  leads  us  !  What  a  world  !  Humanity  would  become  as  an 
instrument  from  which  the  vibrating  strings  had  been  torn  away.  A 
world  without,  tune " 

"Not  merely  strings  of  faith  have  been  stretched  over  the  instru- 
ment of  humanity,"  answered  Callisto.  "There  are  still  other 
strings  which  vibrate  in  the  human  soul." 

"And  what  would  they  be?"  asked  Brother  Martin,  quickly  in- 
terrupting. "Strings?  Yes;  but  only  religion  gives  to  them  a  tune." 

"It  may  be  !  Religion,  indeed  !  But  you  yourself  have  a  pre- 
sentiment that  the  existence  now  calling  itself  religion,  the  official, 
scholastic,  dogmatic  religion  of  Rome,  leads  the  world  in  such  a 
direction  that,  as  you  say,  one  day  the  basilicas  will  stand  as  do  now 
the  temples  of  Passtum.  And  this  presentiment  of  yours  is  exactly 
the  same  as  that  existing  in  me.  Look  around  you  here.  The 
people  are  still  well  trained.  They  pray  off  their  rosaries,  they 
walk  in  their  processions,  they  kneel  and  sprinkle  themselves  with 
holy  water.  They  hear  masses  and  go  to  confess ;  they  reach 
into  their  purses  and  bring  forth  offerings,  and  pay  for  indulgences. 
All  that  is  training,  all  of  it.  The  means  of  training — with  the 
dog  it  is  the  whip ;  with  people,  the  punishment  in  hell.  The  whip 
is  something  real ;  the  hell  is  only  an  idea.  The  idea  will  one  day 
fail.  People  will  laugh  over  hell.  And  then  ?  The  means  of  train- 
ing is  forever  gone." 

Brother  Martin  did  not  answer ;  he  walked  on  in  silence,  looking 
before  him. 

"The  thought  steals  over  me  once  in  awhile,"  continued  Callisto,. 
after  a  pause,  "that  Christ,  with  his  loving  anxiety  to  bring  the 
truth  to  mankind,  has  come  into  the  world  too  soon.  Mankind 
should  have  been  required  to  struggle  longer  to  come  by  its  own 
power  to  a  finer  human  development.  A  race  refined  by  culture 
would  have  understood  him.  Now,  the  world  has  not  comprehended 
him,  and  he  is  dead  for  it.  The  priests  have  done  their  best  to  make 
dead  the  proper,  living,  true  Christ.  The  church  takes  the  field 
with  a  dead  commander,  as  the  Spaniards  with  the  dead  Cid." 

"  And  who,—  who  is  able  to  awaken  again  for  the  world  the  dead 
Christ  ?  "  said  Brother  Martin.  "  There  must, —  there  must  be  a 


202  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

power  found  for  it,  for  the  world  has  need  of  Christ !  Only  through 
him  can  it  become  justified  ;  only  through  him  can  it  become  moral ! " 

"Perhaps,"  said  Callisto,  "mankind  will,  in  the  future,  find  another 
law  upon  which  to  build  its  morality.  Who  knows  ?  Are  you,  how- 
ever, so  firmly  convinced  that  they  need  Christ  for  their  morality, 
then  you  may  also  take  on  the  consolation  that  God  will  not  leave 
them  much  longer  without  that  power  which  may  wake  him  up. 
Perhaps  this  power  will  give  itself  utterance  only  in  the  pronouncing 
of  a  single  great  word.  Perhaps  it  will  know  how  to  make  as  a  law, 
instead  of  fear  which  trains  men,  love,  which  draws  men  to  the 
bosom  of  Christ  through  the  impulse  of  the  heart,  and  not  into  the 
church  through  fear.  Such  a  word  would  make  resound  in  the  ear  of 
mankind  again  all  the  Easter  bells  which  would  rejoice  over  the 
newly  risen  Christ,  and  a  great  and  powerful  feeling  of  the  divine, 
like  a  full  chime  of  bells,  would  pass  over  humanity  ;  they  would 
again  have  their  music,  their  voice  out  of  the  eternal !  " 

"  Christ  could  awake  the  dead,"  said  Brother  Martin,  half-aloud, 
and,  as  it  seemed,  affected,  for  his  voice  trembled  noticeably.  "  Should 
a  man  be  able  to  awake  the  dead  Christ  ? " 

"  A  man  ?  Not  a  man,  but  a  divinely  inspired  thought,  which  a 
man  may  utter.  The  world  has  seen  such  miracles,  and  they  are 
the  only  ones  which  it  has  seen." 

They  went  along  together  in  silence,  and  thus  they  came  to  the 
cloister  of  the  Augustines. 

"Here  we  separate,"  said  Brother  Martin;  "still,  I  have  a  request 
to  make  of  you." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  For  the  maiden,  —  for  Irmgard.  She  loves  Egino,  and  grief  has 
made  her  sick.  If  your  wife  would  take  an  interest  in  her." 

"Certainly,"  said  Callisto.  "Donna  Ottavia  thinks  with  motherly 
care  about  your  poor  countrywoman.  She  has,  as  you  know,  recom- 
mended to  her  a  suitable  dwelling  with  an  excellent  woman  up  on 
the  Quirinal,  near  the  Baths  of  Constantine,  and  has  already  been 
there  herself  to  look  after  her.  The  woman  Giulietta  is  just  as 
honest  as  she  is  intelligent,  and  takes  the  best  care  of  her  tenants, 
Donna  Ottavia  says." 

"I  thank  you,  Signor  Callisto,"  replied  Brother  Martin,  "and  only 
request  that,  for  the  sake  of  comforting  her,  your  wife  speedily  make 
a  fresh  call  upon  the  young  girl.  My  calling  hinders  me  from  bring- 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  203 

ing  her  consolation  as  often  as  I  should  like  —  and  she  needs  it,  you 
see  yourself." 

"  That  is  so,  as  you  say ;  still,  you  may  be  sure  that  my  wife  will 
not  neglect  it." 

They  shook  hands,  and  Callisto  turned,  in  order  to  pass  through 
the  Porta  del  Popolo  to  his  domestic  hearth.  Brother  Martin  pulled 
the  bell  at  the  cloister-door,  and  immediately  disappeared  into  the 
interior  of  the  building.  He  sought  out  his  cell,  and  seated  himself 
upon  an  old,  hard  wooden  chair,  —  except  a  pair  of  stools,  the  only  seat 
which  the  poor  little  room  contained.  It  stood  before  the  window. 
Through  this  window  he  looked  out  upon  the  height  rising  close 
before  it,  steep  and  barren,  only  set  here  and  there  with  scanty 
bushes,  among  which  a  flock  of  goats  sought  out  a  meager  suste- 
nance. The  brow  of  the  hill  was  crowned  with  an  artistically  con- 
structed wall-work  ;  the  last  remnant  of  some  magnificent  building 
which  once  arose  here  in  the  luxurious  gardens  of  Sallust,  formerly 
covering  these  heights. 

Half-way  up  stood  a  picture  of  the  Madonna,  above  some  crumbling 
stone  steps ;  upon  the  lowest  lay,  sleeping,  a  ragged  youth,  the  shep- 
herd of  the  goats. 

Martin  lifted  his  eyes  to  the  picture  of  the  Madonna. 

"Poor  woman,"  he  thought,  "why  hast  thou  the  countenance  of  a 
sufferer  ?  Because  the  world  and  the  time  have  killed  your  Son  ? 
Because  they  have  done  violence  to  his  mind  and  his  soul,  that  both 
may  be  stifled,  and  die?  Is  it  then  true  what  this  Roman  says,  that 
the  world  will  turn  its  back  upon  all  this  strange  miracle-work,  with 
which  as  an  armor  they  have  clothed  the  dead  heroes  ?  Will  the 
world  reduce  to  ruins  their  pictures  and  your  own  ?  The  youth 
there  sleeping  at  your  feet  —  will  he,  when  he  has  become  a  man, 
lift  up  a  stone  and  hurl  it  at  your  head  as  thanks  for  the  shade  you 
have  expended  upon  him  to-day  ?  Is  mankind  on  the  point  of  awak- 
ing as  if  out  of  a  sleep,  and  ridiculing  the  dreams  it  had,  and  des- 
troying the  pictures  ?  Will  one,  at  some  future  time,  pass  through  our 
forests  and  find  no  more  the  pious  shrine  of  the  saints  at  the  cross- 
roads, around  which,  as  to-day,  some  poor  maid  with  a  care-heavy 
heart  places  a  wreath  of  oak-leaves,  or  entwines  the  golden  broom  ? 

"  Will  no  cross  longer  mark  the  still,  cool  graves  of  our  dead  ? 
When  one  passes  through  a  peaceful  village  in  a  green  meadow-vale, 
will  he  there  ask,  '  What  ugly,  dark  heap  of  ruins  is  that  in  the  midst 
of  your  village  ? '  And  will  one  receive  the  answer  :  '  Those  are  the 


204  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

ruins  of  a  church,  as  our  fathers  called  it.  They  assembled  there  to 
honor  their  God, but  they  had  a  priest  as  servant  of  the  altar  in  this 
house  of  God  who  told  them  so  many  unreasonable  and  incredible 
things  about  their  God,  who  so  long  threatened  them  with  his 
wrath,  and  so  long  drove  bargains  with  his  favors,  that  they  began 
to  laugh  at  him,  and  resolved  to  bother  themselves  no  more  about 
God,  but  only  about  their  daily  labor'  !  Will  it  come  to  that  ?  Will 
the  lean  kine  thus  consume  the  fat,  the  curate  beat  the  vicar,  and 
the  common  people  the  curate  ?  Will  the  last  Pope  with  his  cardi- 
nals, a  little  heap  of  feeble  diminutive  old  men,  sit  upon  one  of  these 
seven  hills,  like  Pope  Benedict  upon  Peniscola,  hurling  upon  the 
world,  which  has  forgotten  them,  excommunication  which  no  more 
•excites  them  ?  Cruel  thought !  The  world  without  Christ !  A  world 
which  casts  its  glance  only  upon  the  ground,  upon  the  earth  at  their 
feet  upon  which  they  labor,  no  more  forward  into  the  infinity  of 
their  future  ;  no  more  upward  into  heaven  !  Men  nothing  but  leaves 
upon  great  trees  appointed  to  fall  off  to  make  fresh  place  for  the 
new,  which  come  only  to  fall  away  and  to  molcler ;  the  world  a  great 
heap  of  refuse  !  A  thus  wider,  buzzing  child's  play,  eternal,  eternal 
in  cruel  monotony  !  " 

Brother  Martin  had  supported  his  head  upon  his  arm  resting 
before  him  on  the  widow-seat.  He  now  let  his  eye  sweep  above 
to  the  overhanging  mountain-cliff,  which  suddenly  took  on  a  wonder- 
fully rosy  glow,  and  looked  up  to  the  sky  glowing  in  most  magnif- 
icent purple  from  the  reflection  of  the  evening  light. 

"  Ecce  signum  omnipotentis  Dei!"  he  continued,  in  his  silent 
monologue.  "  Dost  thou  come  to  say  to  me  that  I  am  a  fool  ?  That 
thou  canst  not  have  kindled  this  immeasurably  wonderful  sunlight 
in  order  to  lighten  up  the  childishness  of  an  aimless  perpetual  motion  ? 
and  that  thy  Word,  thy  Spirit  will  flame  further  through  the 
ages  than  this  beautiful,  indestructible  globe  of  the  sun  ?  That  I  am 
a  fool,  with  my  oppressed,  downcast  heart,  if  I  suppose  the  dark 
funeral  company  which  buried  the  Master  could  take  from  mankind 
their  eternal  need,  the  faith,  if  I  see  the  crosses  destroyed,  the 
•churches  of  our  German  villages  lying  in  ruins,  the  former  voices 
silent  in  the  towers  of  our  cathedrals,  the  last  monk  speedily 
starving  in  some  rocky  desert  ?  Is  it  a  crime  in  you,  a  sinful 
despair?  Lord,  forgive  me;  I  see  indeed  thousands,  hundreds 
-of  thousands  of  honorable  men  in  whose  inner  bjing  the  crosses  are 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  205 

already  broken,  the  churches  already  lie  in  ruins,  no  tone  of  a  bell 
icalls  any  more  to  faithful  meditation 

"And  still,  it  cannot, —  cannot  be!  This  Roman  is  right.  Only 
the  word  must  be  found, —  a  word  of  new  life  !  Whence  is  it  to  be 
taken  ?  Where  is  it  to  be  found  ?  What  did  that  wonderful  Master 
Raffaelle  Santi  say  —  he  has  made  himself  free  and  found  beauty  —  I 
.should,  through  freedom,  find  truth?  Freedom  ?  Shall  the  living 
word  preach  liberty  —  liberty  from  that  funeral  company?  Shall  it 
say,  '  We  shall  each  go  his  own  way  to  Christ,  and  walk  without  you 
to  God  ? ' 

"  Is  that  enough  ?  No.  The  black  company  has  stirred  up  the 
intellect  and  the  reason,  and  thus  raised  men  in  revolt  against  God. 
What  quiets  the  disturbance  must  come  from  the  soul.  From  the 
soul,  the  word  that  saves  us  !  From  the  soul " 

Poor  Brother  Martin  !  if  you  should  come  to  these  Romans  with 
your  German  soul  would  they  understand  you  ? 

He  thought  awhile;  then,  rising,  he  said :  — 

"And  if  not,  what  difference  would  that  make?  The  German 
understands  the  word  of  the  soul ;  and  if  the  Romans  do  not,  so  may 
every  people  become  saved  in  their  own  way.  It  is  better  that  they 
go  different  ways,  each  guided  by  his  own  indwelling  nature,  than 
that  one  lead  another  astray,  and  draw  him  into  the  abyss." 

He  sprang  up  as  if  revived.  With  both  hands  he  stroked  his  thin 
face,  his  luminous  eyes,  and  concluded  his  soliloquy  with  these 
Avords  :  — 

"And  now  let  us  £0  clown  to  these  monks  below." 


CHAPTER    X. 

GOSSIP   OF   AN    "ARTISTA." 

HILE  the  German  monk  and  Callisto  walked  along  the 
street  in  such  an  earnest  interchange  of  thought,  Irmgard 
had  gone  back  alone  to  the  little  house  in  which  she, 
with  her  uncle,  upon  the  recommendation  of  Donna 
Ottavia,  had  taken  up  her  abode  with  the  widow  of  a  worker  in 
marble  and  her  son.  As  said  before,  the  house  lay  upon  the  then 
still  desolate  Quirinal,  at  whose  western  foot  arose  the  palace  of  the 
Colonna,  the  oldest  of  the  still-standing  palaces  of  Rome ;  while  upon 
the  height  above,  stretching  to  the  ruins  of  the  Baths  of  Constantine, 
extended  the  garden  of  the  palace.  The  whole  square  above  was 
still,  and  deserted  by  men.  On  an  old  wall  of  the  baths  reclined  the 
little  house  of  the  widow ;  it  was  surrounded  by  a  garden,  in  which 
the  woman  raised  cabbage  and  artichokes,  and  a  hedge  of  a  prickly 
shrub  fenced  it  around.  In  the  corner  of  the  garden,  in  a  thicket  of 
shrubbery,  stood  a  plane  tree  and  a  mulberry  tree  in  a  group 
together  ;  under  them,  a  stone  table  ;  a  piece  of  a  marble  frieze  out  of 
those  old  baths  served  as  a  seat  behind  it.  Irmgard,  when  she  came 
home  and  had  looked  after  her  uncle,  seated  herself  there,  and 
looked  with  her  careworn  glance  over  the  city,  which  now,  flooded 
with  the  bright  glow  of  the  sun,  she  could  look  down  upon  from  this 
height.  It  was  the  sunny  splendor  of  the  Hesperides,  which  lay 
lighting  up  in  her  presence  the  Eternal  City.  She  saw  the  cupolas 
and  the  monuments  of  Rome  before  her.  A  gentle  breeze  blew 
a  coolness  through  the  shady  nook  under  the  trees  in  which  she  sat 
hidden.  This  breeze,  which  drew  so  gently  through  the  leaves 
of  the  laurel  bush  near  her,  bore  to  her  the  fragrance  of  blooming 
oranges  from  the  gardens  of  the  Colonna.  Irmgard  was  young ;  she 
was  strong  and  healthy ;  every  breath  in  this  pure  air  should  have 
streamed  through  her  with  a  feeling  of  a  full,  joy-creating  life-force. 

206 


STATUE   OF   RAPHAEL. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  207 

And  still  —  she  sat  drawn  together  as  if  bound  around  with  the 
weight  of  pain.  She  bore  the  blame  of  Egino's  misfortune.  She 
knew  not  how  to  live  longer  without  the  hope  to  save  him,  with  the 
consciousness  that  she  had  led  him  into  destruction. 

She  felt  herself  lacerated,  consumed,  dying  under  this  thought. 

She  was  where  she  found  herself  surrounded  with  everything  to 
live  for,  everything  for  a  happy,  physical  being,  and  a  thought  killed 
her. 

Nevermore  except  through  pain  does  man  perceive  that  he  is 
entirely  soul, —  entirely  mental  life, —  entirely  a  world  of  thought  and 
feeling ;  that  his  physical  being  is  nothing  but  the  fragile  glass 
vessel  which  contains  his  real  self.  Pain  is  the  great  revelation  of 
immortality. 

Pain  is  the  great  revelation  which  speaks  to  us  out  of  the  glowing 
thorn  bush  of  our  own  inner  self,  and  for  which  we  need  no  testi- 
mony, no  miracles. 

While  Brother  Martin  and  Callisto  talked  of  faith  and  of  a  new 
foundation  for  the  ethics  of  the  future,  Irmgard  received  through 
pain  the  lesson  which  develops  man  into  moral  perfection  here,  and 
forms  him  for  its  reception  in  eternity. 

Irmgard  sat  thus  a  long,  long  time.  Through  the  open  window  of 
his  room  she  observed  Uncle  Kraps ;  he  had  no  more  the  pleasure 
of  looking  out  upon  the  world  through  panes  of  glass,  for  the 
widow's  little  house  did  not  have  any :  if  one  would  look  out,  he 
must  have  the  wooden  shutter  opened  just  as  at  home  in  Germany. 
Uncle  Kraps  had  become  reconciled  to  this,  as  to  many  other  things. 
He  had  become  reconciled  to  seeing  his  dreams  of  titles,  and  robes 
of  state,  and  extraordinary  distinction  disappear ;  he  had  become 
reconciled  to  having  men  laugh  at  him  here,  just  as  they  did  at 
home  in  Ulm,  whenever  he  let  himself  be  seen  ;  he  had  even  become 
reconciled  to  the  goat's  flesh  and  the  bitter,  roasted  bird  of  the  Cam- 
pagna  set  before  him  by  his  landlady  ;  for  all  these  things  he  had  a 
solace,  and  it  was  the  sweet,  golden  drink  of  Orvieto. 

Uncle  Kraps  was  on  his  way  to  that  philosophy  which  forgoes  to 
master  things  mentally  by  the  use  of  dialectics,  and  confines  itself 
to  becoming  their  master  through  the  frame  of  mind ;  a  philosophy 
so  much  the  wiser  when  it  allows  itself  to  have  and  to  create  more 
easily  this  temper  than  the  mind  or  the  thoughts.  Uncle  Kraps 
had  brought  to  himself  one,  two,  three,  four  flasks  of  Orvieto  wine, 
and  also  of  others,  —  of  Rocca  di  Papa,  of  Marino,  of  every  different 


208  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

sort,  "Dei  pin  megliori  castelli" — and  the  frame  of  mind  was  there. 

Irmgard  had  in  the  last  days  forgotten  to  guard  her  uncle,  and  his 
progress  in  the  art  of  getting  the  better  of  life  by  tonic  incitation  of 
this  frame  of  mind  had  escaped  her ;  she  did  not  see  with  what  beau- 
tiful results  his  practice  of  this  art  of  overcoming  the  world  had 
been  crowned,  for  Uncle  Kraps  was  a  silent  nature.  His  voice  at 
home  had  had  something  bleating  about  it  ;  and  if  in  the  evening 
hour  she  perceived  something  of  stammering,  it  was  hard  to  recog- 
nize this  alteration,  because  it  had  been  brought  about  by  a  peculiarly 
gentle  transition.  So  about  Uncle  Kraps  there  was  no  anxiety  to  be 
entertained ;  he  was,  on  the  contrary,  an  element  of  gayety  in  the 
house  of  the  widow.  Beppo,  her  son,  the  marble-workman,  broke 
out  into  a  laugh  every  time  the  remarkable  man  opened  his  mouth 
to  utter  one  of  those  Italian  words  which  belonged  to  his  rather 
scanty  vocabulary,  and  which  he  brought  forth  so  comically  and 
accented  so  falsely. 

But  what  could  cause  the  grief  of  the  young  German  maiden,  who 
was  evidently  under  the  pressure  of  some  suffering  of  the  soul,  who 
no  more  ate  or  drank,  who  seemed  to  ramble  restlessly  around  ? 

Thus  questioned  the  kindly  widow,  Signora  Giulietta,  and  Beppo, 
her  laughter-loving  son  ;  in  whose  countenance  the  laughter  always 
died  out,  and  who  always  threw  back  his  dark  head  to  shake  from  his 
brow  the  raven  locks  when  he  espied  Irmgard. 

They  had  no  answer  for  this  question,  and  still  it  appeared  to  oc- 
cupy them  more  and  more  every  day  —  at  least  Beppo,  who  for  some 
time  came  home  more  regularly  of  an  evening,  and  much  earlier 
from  his  work  at  the  studio  of  his  master,  a  sculptor,  or  from  the 
excavations  under  the  guidance  of  Raphael,  with  whom  he  also 
worked. 

Beppo  was  a  stonecutter,  and  therefore  called  himself  an  "artis- 
ta,"  and  was,  in  his  way,  a  cultivated  young  man.  They  are  all  the 
product  of  the  ancient  life-culture,  these  happy  sons  of  Ausonia ;  to 
each  one  of  them  has*  been  handed  down  a  greater  or  less  share  of 
the  ancestral  heritage. 

Beppo  had  a  pair  of  deep  black  eyes,  and  these  always  glowed 
more  than  usual  when  they  lay  upon  Irmgard.  Irmgard,  truly,  had 
observed  it ;  she  had,  therefore,  always  been  monosyllabic  and  quiet 
when  the  young  man  was  there,  and  Beppo  was  therefore  shy,  going 
about  her  as  about  a  mystery. 

"  She  has  a  love-sorrow,  the  Giovinetta  ;  she  has  left  her  heart  be- 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  209 

hind  her  in  her  land,"  said  the  widow,  when  she  was  alone  with  her 
son,  and  he  began  about  the  strangers. 

"No,  no;  I'll  wager  it  isn't  so,"  then  asserted  Beppo.  "When 
they  came  to  rent  these  two  rooms,  these  remarkable  people,  the 
maiden  was  well  and  gay,  and  now  she  is  no  longer  so.  Her  trouble 
lies  in  Rome.  Ask  her  about  it,  mother." 

"As  if  I  hadn't  done  it!"  answered  Frau  Giulietta,  shrugging  her 
.shoulders. 

"  And  what  has  she  replied  ? " 

"That  she  is  not  well." 

"Not  well!  And  yet  she  is  on  her  feet  the  whole  day;  still  she 
is  up  on  the  Aventine  more  than  in  her  room." 

"On  the  Aventine?"  said  Frau  Giulietta.  "And  how  do  you 
know  that  ?  Have  you  slyly  followed  her  ?  " 

"  I  know  it,"  replied  Beppo,  coloring  slightly;  "we  have  been  work- 
ing there  under  Santa  Sabina,  in  the  old  vaults.  I  know  that  if  her 
grief  lies  in  Rome,  it  lies  on  the  Aventine." 

" Ecco,  ecco  /"  exclaimed  Frau  Giulietta;  "only  do  not  give  your- 
self anxiety  about  it." 

Beppo  turned  and  went  out  into  the  little  garden,  and  saw  Irmgard 
sitting  under  the  trees  in  the  shady  corner. 

He  stood  and  looked  over  at  her,  which  he  could  do  without 
restraint ;  for  she  sat  motionless,  her  glance  fixed  upon  the  ground, 
.so  lost  in  thought  that  if  she  had  looked  up,  she  would  not  have 
perceived  that  she  was  observed  by  him. 

Beppo  finally  took  courage  and  went  to  her. 

He  stationed  himself  near  her ;  with  hands  behind  him  he 
reclined  with  his  back  against  a  plane  tree,  and  said :  — 

"  It  is  fine  up  here  -in  the  fresh  air,  Signorina.  Do  you  not  find 
it  so  ?  When  the  evening  breeze  comes  hither  from  the  sea,  it  is 
always  so  mild  and  refreshing;  one  breathes  with  redoubled  joy 
when  he  has  crept  around  all  day  in  the  dark  under-world,  like  a 
blind  mole." 

"And  in  what  under-world  have  you  crept  around,  Beppo  ?"  asked 
Irmgard,  raising  her  glance,  but  inattentive,  and  not  looking  at  the 
young  man. 

"  I  have  assisted  at  the  excavations,"  continued  Beppo ;  "  there  are 
twenty  artists  and  workmen  of  us — besides,  Master  Raffaelle  Santi 
comes  from  time  to  time ;  the  Holy  Father  has  intrusted  to  him  the 
•entire  oversight.  We  rummage  around  in  old,  obstructed  vaults, 


210  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

dark  chambers,  and  lofty  passages.  You  would  not  believe  what 
a  frightful  under-world  it  often  is  ;  sometimes  it  is  broader,  grander, 
higher  than  in  the  largest  palaces  here  above  ;  baths,  they  call  them, 
then.  We  shovel  and  dig  by  torchlight,  like  a  troup  of  demons. 
You  should  see  it,  Signorina ;  it  is  indeed  a  strange  sight  in  the 
damp,  moldy  vaults,  where  the  water  often  drops  from  the  walls, 
and  toads  or  salamanders  glide  or  hop  over  the  floor,  when  the 
unaccustomed  beam  of  light  falls  upon  them " 

"And  why  do  you  do  it?"  said  Irmgard,  interrupting  him.  "Do 
you  seek  for  treasures  ? " 

"Now,  we  do  certainly  seek  for  treasures,"  exclaimed  Beppo, 
smiling,  — "  for  treasures  of  every  kind ;  of  course,  those  of  the 
best  kind,  such  as  gold  and  jewels,  we  do  not  find." 

"What,  then,  do  you  find  ?  " 

"Busts,  coins,  vases,  statues,  sarcophagi  —  ah!  what  all  do  we 
not  find  !  Under  the  rubbish  of  Rome,  you  must  know,  lies  a  world 
of  precious  relics ;  the  entire  possessions  of  ancient  times,  as  much  as 
has  not  been  destroyed.  It  is  like  a  house  that  has  been  over- 
thrown by  an  earthquake.  We  find  works  of  art  in  marble  and 
bronze,  tablets  with  inscriptions,  stones  with  reliefs  ;  in  the  Baths  of 
Titus  we  have  found  remnants  of  wall  paintings.  I  tell  you  no 
disagreeable  and  trying  labor  is  better  rewarded  than  ours  ! " 

"  And  have  you  carried  on  such  work  to-day,  Beppo  ? "  asked  Irm- 
gard. 

"Of  course,  even  to-day." 

"  And  have  you  found  much  ?  " 

"Ah!  no,  about  nothing,"  replied  Beppo;  "and  so  we  have  come 
away  tired  and  disappointed,  and  must  hope  to  have  better  luck  to- 
morrow. It  is  the  fate  we  often  have,  to  see  that  others  have 
already  been  there  long  before  us,  and  have  hunted  and  rummaged 
through  everything;  not,  indeed,  for  the  sake  of  the  art  things,  but 
for  treasures.  For  in  olden  times  people  cared  very  little  for  art ; 
they  were  in  this  respect  great  barbarians,  our  forefathers,  Signo- 
rina.  Scarcely  twenty  years  have  flown  by  since  they  began  to  carry 
on  excavations  and  searching  for  artistic  things.  In  the  Cata- 
combs, indeed  —  have  you  ever  heard  of  the  Catacombs,  Signorina?" 

Irmgard,  who  for  a  long  time  had  no  longer  followed  Beppo's 
chat,  only  shook  her  head  gently. 

"  You  have  never  heard  of  them  ?  Oh  !  you  must  see  them  ;  you 
must  let  me  take  you  there,"  exclaimed  Beppo,  eagerly.  "  You  can 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  211 

have  no  idea  of  this  world  of  death  and  of  horror.  Long,  long  laby- 
rinthian  passages,  narrow  and  high,  hewn  out  of  the  tufa  and  clay  in 
the  dark  earth ;  also  little  halls,  chapels ;  and,  right  and  left  in  the 
walls,  one  above  another,  the  loculiy  or  grave-niches,  wherein  the 
bodies  of  the  dead  have  been  placed,  —  the  dead  and  slain  Christians 
and  martyrs.  I  tell  you,  it  is  a  world  full  of  the  horror  and  dread  of 
death,  and  therein  have  the  poor  Christians  hidden  themselves,  and 
have  celebrated  the  holy  sacraments  in  secret  stillness  and  dread  of 
the  persecutors,  who  have  often  broken  in  upon  them  even  there ; 
and  then  they  have  poured  out  in  streams  the  blood  of  the  poor  flock 
of  God,  and  have  then  shoved  the  bodies  right  and  left  immediately 
into  the  wall-niches  and  put  before  them  a  stone  to  close  them.  Ah  ! 
you  must  see  it,  Signorina.  You  cannot  otherwise  understand  how 
yet  since  then  the  beloved  God  has  been  so  gracious  to  his  church, 
and  how  great  and  powerful  it  now  is.  I  went  for  the  first  time 
into  the  Catacombs  —  it  was  exactly  ten  years  ago ;  and  my  father, 
who  was  a  very  pious  man,  Signorina,  very  God-fearing,  and  only  too 
good  to  the  poor  and  to  the  monks,  who  did  not  then  neglect  our 
house  —  now,  of  course,  since  the  mother  is  poor  and  feeble,  you  see 
them  give  us  a  call  less  frequently  —  but  what  was  I  going  to  say? 
My  father  had  taken  me  with  him  just  ten  years  ago,  and  on  that 
day  it  was  that  Madame  Lucretia  went  in  procession  to  Ferrara  as  a 
bride.  When  I  came  out  of  the  dark  depths,  where  once  the  poor 
persecuted  martyrs,  the  poor  Christian  lambs  fleeing  before  heathen 
wolves,  hid  themselves  in  their  distress,  and  now  slept  in  this  world 
of  the  dead  extending  for  miles,  I  was  quite  wretched  and  sick  at 
heart  from  all  this.  My  limbs  trembled  with  cold,  and  my  teeth 
chattered.  But  in  the  bright  sun  shining  without,  on  that  bright, 
warm  winter  day,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  people  that  we  saw  stream- 
ing to  the  Corso,  and  that  bore  us  with  them  thither,  and  when  my 
eyes  soon  fell  upon  the  finest  festal  procession  which  the  world  has 
ever  seen,  then  I  was  quickly  healed  !  I  was  an  urchin,  Signorina, 
hardly  fourteen  years  old,  and  one  that  forgot  nothing  soon  !  But  the 
procession,  which  I  have  never  forgotten  and  shall  never  forget,  such 
a  magnificent  and  glorious  thing  it  was !  Just  over  the  Catacombs,  in 
which  we  had  been  with  the  dead  martyrs,  it  was  passing  along ;  the 
Holy  Father,  and  his  daughter,  and  his  son,  Don  Cesare,  and  the  sons 
of  the  Duke  of  Ferrara,  and  the  cardinals  ;  the  hoUow  ground  must 
have  echoed  with  the  tread  of  their  proud  steeds,  and  the  joyful 
shouts  of  the  people  must  have  penetrated  even  to  the  quiet  locrili  of 


212  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

the  poor  saints.  Oh  !  you  should  have  seen  it !  Such'a  sight  one 
beholds  but  once  in  a  lifetime,  and  only  in  Rome.  The  Holy  Father 
gave  them  his  attendance  as  far  as  the  Porta  del  Popolo,  Don  Cesare 
to  the  Ponte  Molle,  and  the  nineteen  cardinals  to  the  Prima  Porta 
and  farther.  Not  to  be  overlooked  was  the  number  of  pages,  of 
body-guards,  of  nobility,  of  high  officials  ;  and  inestimable  was  the 
magnificence  of  the  costumes  of  scarlet  and  gold,  and  of  silk  entirely 
hidden  by  embroidery  of  gold  and  adornments  of  precious  stones. 
Don  Cesare  wore  a  splendid  coat-of-mail  held  together  by  a  golden 
girdle  ;  the  saddle  cover  of  his  powerful  war-charger  alone  was  valued 
at  ten  thousand  ducats.  Madame  Lucretia,  however,  wore  a  close- 
fitting  dress  of  crimson  silk  with  a  sbernia  over  it  of  golden  tissue, 
with  broad,  flowing  sleeves,  and  bordered  with  ermine.  Covering  her 
head,  with  its  flowing  golden  hair,  was  a  hat  also  of  crimson  silk  with 
a  proudly  dangling  plume,  and  upon  the  left  side  hung  a  string  of 
pearls  down  to  her  ear  ;  she  was  so  beautiful,  Madame  Lucretia !  A 
band  of  musicians  in  costly  robes  marched  before  her,  but  the  cries 
of  the  people  sounded  above  their  tune.  And  how  great  the  proces- 
sion was  you  will  be  able  to  form  an  idea,  Signorina,  if  I  tell  you  that 
the  number  of  horses  and  mules  which  the  Holy  Father  gave  away 
with  his  daughter  might  carry  no  less  than  a  thousand  ;  there  were 
two  hundred  wagons  ;  and  of  the  cardinals  who  gave  her  escort,  each 
had  two  hundred  nobles,  halberdiers,  pages  and  servants  in  his  reti- 
nue. Oh  !  you  should  have  seen  it.  My  young  heart  rejoiced  in  me 
over  all  the  glittering  magnificence,  and  my  pious  father,  who  stood 
behind  me,  laid  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder  and  said  :  'You  see  now 
to-day,  my  son,  how  God  is  with  his  holy  church  ;  out  of  the  dark- 
ness of  the  Catacombs  and  the  misery  of  martyrdom,  he  has  led  it  to 
the  highest  worldly  glory,  as  it  is  said  in  the  book  of  Judges,  "  I 
have  saved  you  from  the  hand  of  the  Egyptians,  and  from  every 
hand  which  oppresses  you,  and  have  given  to  you  your  land." 

Beppo  was  obliged  to  take  breath,  he  had  fallen  into  such  eager- 
ness in  his  narration,  accompanied  by  the  most  animated  pantomime. 

"  You  are  right,  Beppo,"  answered  Irmgard,  with  a  painful  twitch- 
ing of  the  mouth.  "  He  has  lifted  it  very  high.  Still,  there  are  always 
martyrs  who  languish  in  the  Catacombs,  as  you  call  them." 

"  Martyrs  ? " 

"  Well,  yes.     Has  not  the  Inquisition  dungeons  ? " 

"  Ah  ! "  exclaimed  Beppo,  "  but  those  who  languish  therein  are 
not  martyrs,  but  heretics  !  " 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  213 

"  Of  course  ;  but,  in  any  case,  their  lot  is  to  be  pitied." 

"Holy  Mother!"  exclaimed  Beppo,  "the  lot  of  heretics  to  be 
pitied  ?  But  if  men  did  not  judge  them  what  would  our  lot  be  ? 
Would  not  God  seek  us  out  with  all  the  plagues  of  the  land  of  Egypt, 
with  famine,  and  pestilence,  and  earthquakes,  if  we  were  remiss  in  de- 
fending his  honor,  and  did  not  take  vengeance  with  the  edge  of  the 
sword  upon  those  who  sin  against  him  ?  I  pray  you,  Signorina,  what 
would  become  of  us  ? " 

"  You  are  right,  good  Beppo ;  your  God  has  need  of  vengeance. 
And  that  he  may  obtain  it,  he  has  here  upon  earth  the  judgment  of 
heretics,  and  there  beyond  the  eternally  flaming  woodpile  of  hell." 

Beppo  looked  at  her  in  astonishment,  his  eyes  dilated.  Did  the 
maiden  speak  so  impiously  in  earnest  ?  He  was  going  to  answer 
her,  when  she  continued:  — 

"  And  so  is  the  whole  life  such  a  world :  down  in  the  depths  of 
dark  labyrinths  for  the  poor,  the  bondsmen,  the  outcasts ;  and  up 
yonder  above,  the  immense  festal  procession  of  the  great  and 
powerful  ! " 


CHAPTER   XL 

WHO    KNOWS? 

|HILE  Irmgard  thus  listened  to  the  chatter  of  Beppo,  and 
in  her  grief  looked  upon  the  world  as  divided  by  fate 
into  two  halves,  one  dark,  subterranean,  for  the  poor 
care-burdened  ones,  and  one  bright,  sunny  upper  world 
for  those  born  to  privileges,  she  was  not  aware  that  among  this 
privileged  class,  in  the  proud  occupant  of  a  princely  castle,  she  had 
a  sister  in  pain.  Upon  the  high-towering  balcony  of  the  Savelli 
house,  which  presented  a  view  of  the  Eternal  City,  and  seemed  lord- 
ing over  it,  sat  Corradina,  as  isolated,  as  full  of  care,  as  Irmgard  in 
her  poor  little  garden. 

And  if  Irmgard,  from  pain  at  Egino's  fate,  from  anxiety  about  him 
yet,  felt  upon  her  heart  the  pressure  of  bitter  reproof  made  by  her 
conscience  —  Corradina,  besides  her  anxiety  for  the  missing  one, 
felt  the  pressure  of  uneasiness  about  herself,  her  own  fate ! 

The  pain  of  the  child  of  princes  was  no  less  than  that  of  the  poor 
maiden  from  the  people. 

She  sat  upon  the  balcony  near  the  little  worktable ;  upon  it  lay  a 
little  book  with  parchment  leaves  closely  filled  with  writing,  bound 
in  a  gracefully  wrought  cover  of  shining  metal.  She  had  just  been 
reading  in  it ;  the  finger-tips  of  her  right  hand  still  lay  upon  the 
lower  edge,  to  hold  it  open.  But  she  was  looking  beyond  the  leaves, 
away  ;  what  she  had  read  must  have  occupied  her  mind  profoundly 
and  intensely. 

As  if  arousing  herself  from  thought,  she  then  closed  the  book 
and  pushed  it  from  her. 

"If  there  could  a  man  be  found,"  she  whispered,  sighing  deeply, — 
"a  man  for  this  book!  They  seek  the  'philosopher's  stone,'  and 
here,  here  it  is,  the  stone  for  a  philosopher  ;  but  where  is  the  phi- 
losopher for  it  ?  Where  is  the  slinger  powerful  enough  to  hurl  this 
stone  at  the  head  of  the  Goliath  ?  Where  is  the  hand  strong  enough 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  215 

to  bear  this  formidable  weapon  forged  by  my  ancestor?  Shall  it 
never  be  of  further  service  than  to  pour  anger  into  the  soul  of  a 
young  maiden,  and  through  wrath  give  her  strength  ? 

"  Strength,  strength  !  Ah,  how  I  need  it !  And  how  long  will 
that  which  is  in  me  suffice,  hold  out,  to  keep  me  upright  ? " 

These  words,  which  came  gently  and  as  if  complainingly  over  the 
lips  of  Corradina,  were  to-day  uttered  by  her  for  the  first  time  ;  and 
the  feeling  which  they  expressed  had  a  few  days  since  come  over 
her  soul  for  the  first  time. 

Something  like  a  defiant  pride,  a  lofty  self-consciousness,  as  well 
as  the  union  of  her  fancy  with  forms  of  the  past,  had  up  to  this 
time  kept  this  thought  far  from  her.  She  could  not  have  grown 
faint-hearted,  if  she  had  said  to  herself  that  the  men  and  women 
whose  blood  coursed  in  her  had  stood  in  such  infinitely  greater  and 
more  difficult  struggles. 

To-day  such  considerations  had  no  more  for  her  the  tempering 
effect  that  they  formerly  had. 

The  wrestling  with  personal  cares,  the  anxiety  seizing  immediately 
upon  her  heart,  lay  upon  her  too  heavily  to  be  removed  from  her  by 
forms  of  the  remote  past,  let  her  fancy  occupy  itself  ever  so  much 
with  them,  let  them  draw  ever  so  near  her.  What  were  all  the  lofty, 
deceased  ancestors  to  the  living,  breathing  form  so  near  her  of  a 
young  man  who,  for  her  sake,  with  such  foolhardy  fearlessness,  had 
rushed  into  a  danger  before  he  had  even  taken  a  moment  of  time  to 
reflect  upon  the  greatness  of  this  danger. 

She  thought  of  the  host  of  men  who,  enticed  by  her  wealth  or 
her  beauty,  had  sued  for  her  favor.  While  over  all  these  she  curled 
her  lips  with  an  expression  of  contempt,  she  felt  a  kind  of  pride  in 
this  German,  whom  she  looked  upon  as  a  countryman ;  a  kind  of 
pride  in  his  preference,  which  had  manifested  itself  so  chivalrously. 

Egino  von  Ortenburg  stood  no  nearer  her  heart  than  any  other 
man.  Such  a  sudden  surrender  would  have  been  impossible  to  this 
heart.  If  she  had  seen  him  for  the  first  time  in  an  assembly  among 
other  men,  her  glance  would  have  glided  indifferently  over  him.  But 
his  warmth,  his  ardor  for  thoughts  which  lay  now  in  her  own  soul, 
had  influenced  in  her  a  feeling  of  sisterhood  for  him, —  a  feeling  of 
stronger,  more  sacrificing  friendship ;  and  now,  when  his  actions  had 
wrought  upon  her  fancy,  when  his  condition  had  awakened  all  her 
anxiously  concerned  womanly  sympathy,  she  thought  more  of  him 
than  of  any  other  man  on  earth. 


216  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

.  With  an  infinite  relief  she  had  found  out  from  Livio  that  the 
monks  over  there  had  not  delivered  Egino  to  her  relatives.  She  had 
had  Father  Eustachius  brought  over  to  her,  and  sought  to  obtain 
from  him  information  about  Egino's  further  fate.  Eustachius  had 
been  silent  about  it ;  he  had  been  unwilling  or  unable  to  tell  her  any- 
thing more  than  that,  in  the  first  place,  nothing  could  be  undertaken 
against  Egino,  because  he  was  too  severely  wounded.  He  had  also 
tried  in  his  severe,  but  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  not  hard  and  love- 
less way,  to  console  and  quiet  Corradina.  She  placed  her  hopes  in 
Eustachius  ;  had  he  not  from  the  first  shown  himself  remarkably 
mild  and  indulgent  towards  Egino  ?  If  he  had  not  had  his  monkish 
notions,  there  would  have  been  something  free  and  humane  in  him. 

Still,  Eustachio's  words  did  not  reach  so  far  in  appeasing  Corradina 
as  to  induce  in  her  a  passive  inactivity.  She  tortured  her  brains  with 
plans  and  thoughts  of  helping  the  prisoner,  of  rescuing  him.  Of  all 
her  servants  she  could  trust  no  one  —  she  knew  that.  She  thought 
of  drawing  into  her  confidence  Livio's  wife,  Cornelia  Savelli. 
Was  it  not  possible  the  latter  would  find  a  satisfaction  in  getting 
away  the  German  knight  from  the  hatred  of  her  husband,  to  play 
upon  him  a  stroke  of  revenge  ?  Corradina  knew  Cornelia  too  well 
not  to  find  this  probable ;  but  if  she  spoke  to  this  Cornelia  of  the 
German,  she  knew  that  Cornelia  would  believe  in  her  love  for  the 
German,  and  in  her  mind  she  saw  already  the  eyes  of  this  frivolous 
woman  resting  mockingly  upon  her.  Corradina's  pride  revolted  at 
this  idea  most  violently,  and  thus  there  was  wanting  to  her  the  cour- 
age for  such  a  resolution. 

With  gold  and  with  promises  of  greater  gain  to  herself  she  had 
sought  to  bribe  her  body-servant,  whom  she  knew  the  duke  and  Livia 
had  already  bribed.  She  had  thereupon  received  the  most  beautiful 
promises  in  return.  And,  indeed,  the  woman  had  at  least  been  able 
to  bring  her  news,  which  Corradina  was  obliged  to  receive  as  true. 

Teresa  was  even  now  stepping  through  the  window-casement  out 
on  the  balcony,  with  a  face  as  if  she  had  something  important  to* 
communicate. 

"  What  news  do  you  bring,  Teresa  ?  what  have  you  found  out  ? " 
asked  Corradina,  in  excitement,  "  good  or  bad  ?  " 

"  Eh,"  replied  the  maid,  "  who  knows !  I  have  found  out  that 
Count  Livio,  with  his  servant  Sor  Antonio,  has  gone  down  into  the 
vaults  and  cellar-rooms  under  us,  and  that  they  have  stayed  there  a 
long  time." 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  217 

"Ah!"  said  Corradina,  "that  clearly  enough  betokens  to  me  the 
worst ;  for  what  can  Count  Livio  wish  except  to  look  around  in  the 
vaults  and  deserted  places  for  a  dungeon  for  the  unhappy  German  ? 
Perhaps  he  has  recovered,  and  the  monks  show  themselves  ready  to 
deliver  him  up  ?  " 

Teresa  shook  her  head. 

"Possibly,  possibly,"  she  said;  "but  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
monks  will  give  him  up.  He  is  said  to  be  a  heretic,  Fra  Alessio  has 
told  me  in  confidence,  and  then  they  dare  not  give  him  up ;  the 
heretics  belong  to  their  order,  Madame." 

"But  what  do  you  think,  Teresa,  could  otherwise  have  impelled 
Livio  to  go  down  there  ?" 

Teresa  lowered  her  voice  to  a  whisper. 

"The  vaults  below  are  adjacent  to  the  vaults  under  the  cloister, 
where  the  prisons  are." 

"They  are  adjacent?  But  they  are  still  separated  by  thick 
walls  ? " 

Teresa  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"Cki  losa?  Who  knows?"  she  replied,  "whether  Count  Livio 
will  find  the  walls  separating  them  so  thick  as  to  hinder  his  going 
through,  in  case  he  wills  to  do  it ! " 

Corradina,  whose  countenance  had  gradually  grown  paler,  was 
silent  awhile.  Then  she  said:  — 

"  But  how  could  it  help  him  to  force  his  way  through,  Teresa  ? 
You  have  assured  me  of  having  found  out  from  Fra  Alessio  that 
Count  Egino  does  not  lie  imprisoned  in  the  lowest  dungeons,  but  in 
a  cell  higher  up,  and  that  the  Padre  Infirmario  is  taking  good  care  of 
him  ?  " 

"  So  it  is,  — so  it  is  ;  Fra  Alessio  said  so,"  put  in  Teresa;  "but  can 
I  know  whether  or  not  Fra  Alessio  is  telling  the  truth  ?  And 
whether,  when  perhaps  the  German  is  cured,  they  will  not  bring  him 
into  the  worse  dungeons,  perhaps  even  into  the  Chapel  of  the  Im- 
mured ?  Do  they  tell  us  the  truth  in  such  things  ? " 

"  You  are  right,"  responded  Corradina,  with  trembling  lips,  and 
feeling  her  anxiety  inexpressibly  increased. 

"  And  then,"  added  Teresa,  "  I  must  confess  to  you  that  yesterday, 
also,  I  saw  this  Fra  Alessio  in  a  private  conversation  with  Sor  An- 
tonio over  there  in  the  cloister-garden.  I  can  overlook  the  cloister- 
garden  from  the  window  of  my  room  up  there.  So  I  saw  them  ;  they 
sat  under  the  olive  tree  of  the  Holy  Dominicus  and  conversed  quite 


2i 8  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

heatedly  together.  Do  we  know  now  whether  Alessio  tells  what 
comes  from  himself,  or  what  has  been  put  in  his  mouth  by  Sor 
Antonio  ? " 

"  Do  you  believe  that,  Teresa  ?  " 

Teresa  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  That  we  know  as  good  as  nothing  ?  " 

"  If  it  were  not  that  what  Alessio  said  is  also  the  most  probable,  I 
would  think  so." 

"And  Eustachius  has  also  led  me  to  suppose  the  same,"  said 
Corradina. 

Teresa  nodded ;  and  since  she  knew  nothing  further  to  communi- 
cate, she  left  to  find  out  as  much  as  possible  in  secrecy  what  Livio 
was  doing  in  the  lower  regions  of  the  castle.  She  left  Corradina  in 
greater  pain  and  uneasiness.  The  young  woman  tortured  her  brain 
with  thoughts  and  plans  of  saving  Egino,  and  among  them  all  was 
no  one  which  held  even  the  remotest  hope  of  success. 

After  awhile  she  put  both  hands  before  her  face,  and  then  made  a 
movement  with  these  hands  as  if  to  motion  something  away,  as  if  to 
ward  off  a  picture  of  fancy,  and  at  the  same  time  as  if  a  light  shudder 
passed  through  her  frame. 

"Away  with  it,  away  !  "  she  whispered.  "Why  does  this  horrible 
form  thrust  itself  before  me  ?  In  truth,  through  him,  through  him 
it  would  be  possible —  through  this  Cardinal  Riario  !  He  would  ren- 
der aid  ;  but  could  I  sink  so  low?  Would  Egino  himself  wish  me  to 
humiliate  myself  so  deeply  for  his  sake  ?  " 

"And  still  —  still,  why  am  I  not  educated  to  such  humility,  such 
dovelike  softness  ?  Upon  this  road  might  lie  rescue  for  myself  and 
the  German.  If  I  could  open  my  lips  before  Riario  and  reveal  my 
heart  to  Egino,  I  would  be  happy.  With  the  rescued  one  I  could 
flee  into  a  better,  nobler,  a  peaceful  world;  before  me  would  lie  a 
future,  —  a  life  with  hopes,  with  pictures  of  future  happiness  in  it! 
And  now,  —  now  lies  before  me  darkness  and  dread  of  the  coming 
day  and  what  it  may  bring! 

"  But  I  cannot  do  otherwise !  I  cannot  degrade  myself,  and  if  I 
could,  I  could  not  do  it  to  such  an  extent  as  to  forget  I  had  degraded 
myself,  and  then  I  must  hate  myself  an  account  of  it. 

"  So  the  fate  must  be  borne  until  it  pleases  God  to  avert  it,  and  to 
have  mercy  upon  a  soul  which  is,  as  yet,  the  way  he  created  it  —  and 
on  this  account  very,  very  unhappy ! " 


CHAPTER    XII. 

A   WAY    AND   A    HOPE. 

|T  was  on  the  next  day.  Irmgard,  as  if  tired  out,  as  if  de- 
spairing in  her  search,  had  spent  the  morning  at  home, 
and  had  assisted  Frau  Giulietta  in  her  little  garden,  tear- 
ing out  dry  pease,  and  placing  them  upon  the  wall  of  the 
house  to  finish  drying  them.  While  doing  this  she  had  perceived 
much  noise  and  disturbance,  which  must  prevail  over  in  the  gardens 
and  courts  of  Colonna  Palace.  There  came  to  them  only  a  muffled 
sound ;  the  walls  were  high  ;  the  palace  lay  still  rather  far  down  be- 
low them,  on  the  square  of  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Apostles.  But 
still  they  perceived  that  something  unusual  must  be  going  on  there, 
and  Frau  Giulietta  did  not  delay  in  telling  Irmgard  the  cause  of  it. 
She  was  even  initiated  into  all  that  happened  over  there ;  she  and 
her  son  Beppo,  indeed,  belonged  to  the  clients  of  this  powerful  house, 
and  the  chief  servant  over  there  was  Frau  Giulietta's  special  friend 
and  patron,  who,  when  he  was  passing  her  house  and  saw  her,  never 
failed  to  stop  awhile  and  have  a  little  chat,  now  over  this,  now  over 
that. 

"That  they  are  somewhat  in  excitement  over  there  is  no  wonder," 
said  Frau  Giulietta;  "for  in  the  night,  you  must  know,  cara 
Irmgarda,  they  have  received  a  guest,  a  very  eminent  and  noble 
guest,  who  has  ridden  in  with  many  lords  and  servants.  It  is  the 
Duke  of  Ferrara,  Lord  Alfonso  von  Este,  the  husband  of  the  beauti- 
ful Madame  Lucretia,  if  you  have  ever  heard  of  her." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  Beppo,  your  son,  has  told  me  about  her.  And  has 
the  duke  brought  with  him  this  Madame  Lucretia  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  not  that,"  answered  Frau  Giulietta  ;  "  the  duke  has  not 
made  the  journey  hither  for  feasting  and  pleasures,  but  only  that 
our  Holy  Father  may  absolve  him  from  excommunication.  The 
Holy  Father  has  put  him  under  ban,  and  that  was  right ;  for  the 
duke  made  an  alliance  with  the  French  king,  and  has  thus  carried 

219 


220  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

on  war  with  the  Holy  Father  and  his  ally,  the  republic  of  Venice  ; 
then,  however,  the  King  of  France  made  peace  with  the  Holy  Father. 
You  can  have  Beppo  tell  you  about  it,  as  he  knows  everything  as  it 
took  place ;  he  understands  everything  that  happens  of  the  nature 
of  war.  In  this  respect  he  is  at  home  like  a  Swiss  race-runner,  or  a 
German  summoner ;  and  if  he  did  not  have  his  poor  mother,  who  is 
alone  in  the  world,  and  but  for  him  without  help,  he  would  certainly 
have  run  away  long  ago  in  full  armor  to  become  a  soldier.  As  it  is, 
however,  he  must  indeed  remain  at  home,  and  be  an  honorable 
laborer,  which  supports  one,  —  in  a  kind  of  a  way,  you  know,  —  for 
the  marble-work  doesn't  pay  much,  in  truth.  But  the  wages  in  the 
excavations  are  good,  and  they  must  be ;  for  if  they  were  not  good, 
you  understand,  Irmgarda,  it  would  be  a  bad  thing,  with  all  the  beau- 
tiful, costly  things  they  find.  Who  would  otherwise  answer  for  it 
that  the  people  would  not  then  make  themselves  even  for  what  they 
believe  themselves  to  have  earned  by  their  sour  toil  ?  Human 
nature  is  weak,  and  one  could  not  look  after  the  fingers  of  each  one ; 
and  so  they  must  seek  out  honorable  and  reliable  people  for  the 
purpose,  and  reward  the  labor  respectably,  or  else  respectable  people 
will  not  come  to  them.  But  to  come  back  to  the  Duke  of  Ferrara, 
I  was  telling  you  that  he,  deserted  by  his  king,  could  not  alone  offer 
resistance  to  the  Holy  Father,  —  for  the  Holy  Father  is  a  mighty 
master  of  war,  before  whom  stronger  ones  have  already  humbled 
themselves ;  and  that,  in  fact,  the  duke  wished  also  to  do,  but  the 
Holy  Father  would  know  nothing  about  it,  and  treated  his  embassa- 
dors  in  such  a  manner  that  they  sprang  out  of  the  window  through 
fright.  Now,  you  must  know,  however,  that  the  Holy  Father  has  a 
very  illustrious  and  celebrated  commander,  and  that  is  Lord  Fabricio 
Colonna,  who  once,  some  years  since,  in  a  battle,  or  in  a  conquered 
city,  —  I  believe  it  was  Ravenna ;  Beppo  would  know,  —  fell  into 
Duke  Alfonso's  hands,  and  was  conducted  to  Ferrara,  and  there 
was  treated  so  lovingly  by  the  duke  that  they  become  quite  intimate 
friends.  To  Lord  Fabricio,  then,  Duke  Alfonso  finally  turned,  and 
the  former  has  secured  for  him  now  peace  and  the  deliverance  from 
excommunication  by  the  Holy  Father ;  and  so  the  duke  has  come, 
and  there  will  be  great  splendor  over  there.  There  are  such  power- 
ful and  rich  lords  together  that  there  are  no  more  like  them  in 
Rome, —  and,  indeed,  not  in  the  world." 

Frau    Giulietta   began    now  to  chatter  about    their   patrons,  the 
Colonna,  the  Lord  Marc  Antony,  the  son-in-law  of  the  Holy  Father, 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  221 

and  Prospero,  and  the  wild  Pompeo,  who  would  so  gladly  have  been 
a  soldier,  and  whom  they  had  brought  by  force  under  the  priestly 
tonsure,  and  finally  of  Fabricio,  again,  the  commander  of  Pope 
Julius  II. 

Irmgard  had  long  been  listening  with  only  half  an  ear,  when  she, 
looking  up,  saw  Brother  Martin  coming,  walking  slowly  through  the 
garden.  He  nodded  to  Frau  Giulietta ;  he  gave  Irmgard  his  hand, 
and  said  that'  he  only  came  to  exchange  greetings  and  to  look  after 
her.  He  was  carrying  a  heavy  book  under  his  arm,  which  Irmgard 
took  from  him,  to  lay  it  upon  the  table  under  the  shady  cluster  of 
trees,  whither  she  led  him,  in  order  that  he  might  rest  himself  and 
wipe  away  the  sweat  standing  in  bright  beads  upon  his  brow. 

Brother  Martin  was  silent  and  absent-minded  ;  he  was  just  from  an 
hour  of  instruction  which  he  was  accustomed  to  take  in  the  forenoon 
from  a  learned  rabbi  named  Elias  Levita,  in  order  to  learn  the  He- 
brew language.  Alas  !  the  hours  did  not  continue  to  be  devoted 
merely  to  the  suffixes  and  prefixes ;  it  came  also  to  disputations  be- 
tween the  learned  young  monk  and  the  wise  old  rabbi,  and  in  these 
the  rabbi  was  not  always  to  be  beaten,  and  proved  fallacious  ;  and  to- 
day, especially,  had  he  vexed  Brother  Martin  with  the  assertion  that 
there  could  exist  a  thoroughly  religious  people  living  within  the  nar- 
row limits  of  moral  law,  entirely  without  dogmas,  and  that  such  a 
people  the  Jews  were.  They  had,  he  said,  no  creed  except  that  of 
the  one  God  and  of  the  coming  of  the  Messiah. 

This  contention  still  echoed  in  him  to  such  an  extent  that  he  let 
fall  a  few  words  of  it  in  presence  of  Irmgard.  Irmgard  became  silent 
thereupon;  then,  after  a  pause,  lifting  her  eyes  to  him,  she  said  :  — 

"  Give  me  one  piece  of  information,  Brother  Martin  —  will  you  ?  " 

"And  what?" 

"  Tell  me,  in  what  do  people  believe  who  believe  nothing  ?  " 

Brother  Martin  smiled. 

"That  seems  a  childish  question,  and  yet  there  lies  in  it  profound 
wisdom ;  the  feeling  that  to  human  nature  faith  is  an  inextinguishable 
need  !  What  do  they  believe  ?  You  would  not  understand  me,  Irm- 
gard, if  I  were  to  speak  to  you  of  their  ideas ;  it  is,  indeed,  finely  and 
enchantingly  thought  out,  and  for  subtle  minds  like  a  pleasure  gar- 
den, in  which  to  rove  about  and  lose  themselves  to  their  hearts' 
delight.  But  for  a  man  who  thinks  and  cares  for  his  sinful  nature, 
how  he  is  to  become  justified  before  God,  it  does  not  quicken  the 
soul." 


222  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

Irmgard  looked  meditatively  before  her.     Then  she  asked  :  — 

"And  what  do  you  think  we  should  believe  of  justification  when 
we  feel  that  we  are  unworthy  of  pardon,  and  still  do  not  believe  that 
we  can  atone  for  what  has  happened  through  rosaries  and  fasts  ?  " 

"Does  that  also  torment  you?"  asked  Brother  Martin,  looking  at 
her  in  astonishment. 

"  It  also  torments  me,  for  I  bear  a  sin  upon  me.  And  you  see  it 
has  become  clear  to  me  that  I  cannot  through  works,  through  a 
whole  sea  of  good  works,  wash  it  away  from  me.  Good  works  do  not 
make  good.  This  Rome  is  built  of  them,  and  they  rise  in  churches 
and  cupolas  in  all  magnificence  even  to  the  heavens.  Men,  however, 
are  not  good  therein !  Therefore  must  sin  be  atoned  for  through 
something  else,  and  I  am  of  the  opinion  it  is  only  through  penitence, 
through  sorrow.  Dare  I  say  it  ?  I  am  of  the  opinion  Christ  did  not 
come  to  arm  God's  wrath  against  unhappy  mankind  by  a  bit  of  death, 
which  could  not  fall  heavily  upon  him,  for  it  was  still  only  in  appear- 
ance and  blinding  the  people,  who  found  him  again,  after  three  days, 
alive  and  well.  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  Christ  came  as  an  embodi- 
ment of  pain,  as  pain  clothed  with  form,  to  show  us  that  the  saviour, 
the  redeemer,  the  mediator,  is  pain." 

Brother  Martin  looked  at  her  with  an  earnest  countenance,  and 
almost  becoming  angry. 

"  Is  all  the  world,  even  you  also,  running  out  of  the  school  of  faith  ? 
Does  it  lie  in  the  air  ?  Is  it  a  contagious  fever  ?  A  pestilence  and  an 
illness  ?  Pain  ?  Well,  yes  ;  the  pain  of  penitence  is  the  saving  bath 
of  the  soul.  But  above  the  pain  is  something  higher,  to  which  the 
soul  must  force  itself  as  to  the  high-hanging  jewel  with  which  to 
purchase  its  pardon  ;  otherwise  the  pain  avails  nothing.  That  is  the 
action." 

"Action?" 

"  Yes ;  the  action  of  inner  surrender  to  Christ  in  fructifying 
love,  out  of  which  then,  as  out  of  a  freely  gushing  fountain,  follows 
the  impulse  to  works  of  love  for  our  fellow-men ;  yes,  even  for  the 
unknowing  animal,  that  is  also  a  creature  of  God." 

"You  are  right,  truly,"  replied  Irmgard,  thoughtfully.  "What  I  said 
was  the  feeling  of  a  woman  who  feels  herself  weak  and  helpless  for 
the  deed  of  love  for  the  brother  on  whom  alone  she  can  think,  whom 
she  would  most  willingly  help." 

"  I  understand  it,  Irmgard,"  responded  Brother  Martin,  seizing 
her  hand  with  emotion.  "  I  will  also  only  scold  you  because  you 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  223 

lose  so  easily  faith  in  the  protection  of  God,  and  the  help  of  the 
Providence  watching  over  us  all." 

"Your  God  is  so  hard,"  she  said.  "He  is  not  good,  your  God;  if 
he  had  been  good,  he  would  never  have  created  men.  What  a  God 
who  makes  for  himself  men,  and  then  such  a  thing  as  hell  for  them! 
A  good  man  cannot  be  the  inventor  of  a  horrible  rack  of  torture.  A 
good  God  would  not  do  that  which  leads  him  to  invent  something 
still  horribly  worse !  Tell  me  now  yourself,  would  you  procure  for 
yourself  three  little  dogs,  if  you  knew  two  of  them  must  be  thrown 
into  the  water  and  pitifully  drowned  ?  Would  a  good  God  create  for 
himself  men,  when  he  knows  that  two  thirds  of  them  must  be 
thrown  in  the  fire  and  consumed  ? " 

Brother  Martin  was  silent.  He  felt  himself  in  presence  of  the 
young  maiden  still  more  helpless  than  in  the  presence  of  the 
wise  rabbi ;  he  felt  profoundly  such  simple  reproaches  against  the 
weakness  of  the  theological  armor  with  which  he  had  gone  forth 
equipped  into  the  world. 

He  thereupon  confined  himself  to  reviving  her  hope  with  mild 
exhortation.  The  best  consolation  he  left  her  was  something 
definite  about  Egino's  fate,  which  he  was  able  to  communicate 
to  her  before  he  left.  He  had  heard  through  an  order-brother 
that  Egino  was  still  in  Santa  Sabina,  and  that  he  would  probably  be 
guarded  in  a  prison  cell  in  the  broad  vaults  and  rock-hewn  chambers 
under  the  cloister.  The  order-brother  had  not  been  willing  to  name 
to  Brother  Martin  the  source  of  this  information,  but  assured  him  it 
was  reliable. 

There  lay  at  least  the  satisfaction  for  Irmgard  of  knowing  that  the 
worst  of  her  fears  had  not  yet  been  realized,  —  that  Egino  had  not 
yet  been  put  to  death  by  the  wicked  men  in  whose  power  he  had 
fallen. 

When  Martin  was  gone,  Irmgard  turned  to  the  house  to 
spread  the  table  for  Uncle  Kraps  in  the  great  cool  chamber 
which  they  both  occupied,  and  in  which  Irmgard  also  slept, 
while  her  uncle  found  lodging  for  the  night  in  a' little  adjacent  room. 

After  eating,  Uncle  Kraps  rested,  as  was  his  custom  of  old,  and 
Irmgard  betook  herself,  with  some  work, 'again  into  the  garden  to 
the  seat  in  the  shady  thicket  whither  she  had  previously  led 
Brother  Martin.  There  she  reflected  over  Brother  Martin's  words, 
over  his  words  about  the  action  standing  above  the  pain  ;  and  as  it 
was  with  her  now  about  the  heart,  she  could  not  come  to  any  clearer 


224  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

or  stronger  feeling  about  the  inner  act  of  surrender  to  God  and  to 
his  love.  She  must  be  with  all  her  thoughts  occupied  with  the 
deed  to  which  all  her  being  urged  her, —  the  deed  of  help,  of  rescue. 
And  ah  !  it  was  so  impossible  to  her,  so  past  finding  out  —  how  well 
may  that  be  said,  the  higher  is  the  deed ;  but  how  inconsolable  was 
it  for  him  who  had  no  hands,  no  arms,  to  do  anything  ? 

Then  came  Beppo,  stepping  into  the  little  garden  through  the 
opening  in  the  hedge.  Irmgard  heard  him  talking  with  his  mother ; 
he  wished  something  more  to  eat.  While  Giulietta  went  to  warm  him 
some  food  he  came  to  Irmgard. 

"You,  Sor  Beppo?"  she  said.  "You  come  home  to-day  at  an 
unusual  hour  —  in  the  afternoon  instead  of  in  the  evening!  " 

"That's  so,"  replied  Beppo;  "but  I  come  as  tired  on  such  a  hot 
day  as  if  I  came  in  the  evening  ;  besides,  I  am  as  hungry  as  the  wolf 
that  suckled  Romulus  and  Remus,  and  must  have  had  much  to  do 
to  still  a  pair  of  such  wild  youngsters.  We  have  worked  hard  yester- 
day and  this  morning  ;  but  we  have  been  obliged  to  give  up  the  work  ; 
it  didn't  pay." 

"  And  where  were  you  then  ?  " 

"  On  the  Aventine." 

"  On  the  Aventine  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Signorina  Irmgarda,  right  there.  Master  Raffaelle  Santi  was 
intent  upon  uncovering  there  the  passages  to  the  old  burial-places 
of  the  Latin  kings.  But  we  have  found  nothing  of  them,  and  the 
work  has  been  left  off;  we  will  be  to-morrow  on  Monte  Celio." 

"And  where  were  you  on  the  Aventine  ? "  questioned  Irmgard. 

"We  have  been  at  the  foot  of  the  rock-wall  which  goes  down 
against  Via  Salara  and  the  Marmorata.  There  is  an  old  arch  form- 
ing a  gate  into  the  rock.  In  the  room  behind  it  a  merchant  of  the 
Campagna  has  had  his  wine-cellars,  which  are  now  empty ;  but  at 
the  end  of  the  room  a  passage  leads  farther  into  the  rock,  which  is 
obstructed,  and  we  have  cleaned  out  the  rubbish,  and  have  thus 
reached  a  higher-lying  vault.  The  vault  had  been  broken  through 
above,  and  a  mound 'of  rubbish  lay  under  it  ;  when  one  climbed  up 
on  this  he  could  reach  with  his  hands  the  rim  of  the  opening  high 
above  him.  I  forced  myself  up  into  the  room  above,  and  what  did  I 
find  ?  That  everything  had  been  known  and  searched  through  long 
ago  !  In  one  corner  of  the  upper  room,  into  which  I  had  forced  my 
way,  was  even  an  old,  rusty,  iron-grated  door,  which  must  lead  into 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  225 

the  vaults  and  dungeons  under  Santa  Sabina,  and  under  the  cloister 
in  which  the  heretics  are  confined." 

"Into  the  dungeons  under  the  Dominican  cloister?"  said  Irmgard, 
growing  pale,  and  speaking  half-aloud  with  a  trembling  voice. 

"Just  so,"  added  Beppo. 

Irmgard  looked  at  him  awhile,  as  if  lost  in  thought.  Then,  while 
a  slight  flush  mantled  her  cheek,  and  gasping  deeply,  she  said  :  — 

"  Listen,  Sor  Beppo ;  I  am  for  one  time  a  curious  woman,  and  the 
desire  torments  me  to  see  once " 

"What  do  you  wish  to  see,  Signorina  ?  " 

"These  prisons,—  the  heretics,  who  languish  in  the  cloisters 
under  Santa  Sabina." 

"  And  are  you  not  afraid  of  the  sight  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least." 

Beppo  clapped  his  hands  together  in  astonishment.  "Demonio  ! " 
he  said,  "you,  a  girl,  have  more  courage  than  I." 

"Possibly!  Would  you  also  not  have  the  courage  to  conduct  me 
thither  to  where  you  were  to-day  —  to  that  grated  door  of  which  you 
.speak  ? " 

"  Holy  Mother  of  God  !  you  would  not,  in  fact " 

"  In  fact,  Beppo,  I  should  like  once  to  reach  it." 

"  Impossible,  impossible !  And  if  the  monks  should  find  you 
there,  the  watchmen " 

"  It  must  be  in  the  night,  when  the  guards  and  monks  sleep 
the  sleep  of  the  righteous." 

"But  the  door  is  locked,"  exclaimed  Beppo;  "to  force  one's  way 
in  would  be  quite  impossible." 

"Perhaps  so.  That  would  then  be  my  business.  You  would  only 
have  to  guide  me  to  the  door,  no  farther.  Still,  if  you  will  not  risk 
it,  we  will  talk  no  more  about  it." 

"  Nevermore,  nevermore  !  "  said  Beppo,  scratching  his  head,  and 
.still  all  the  time  very  much  frightened. 

"You  would  have  thereby  rendered  me  a  great  service,"  added 
Irmgard,  with  a  deep  sigh. 

"Yes  ;  see,  Signorina,"  answered  Beppo,  "I  should  like  to  render 
you  a  service,  willingly  for  my  lifetime.  But  only  think,  if  they 
should  discover  us  there  ;  if " 

"If  they  should  discover  us,  we  must  have  some  pretext  in 
readiness." 


226  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  And  what  pretext  could  we  have  to  explain  that  we  wished  to 
force  our  way  into  the  dungeons  of  Sant  Uffizio  ?" 

"You,  Beppo  should  not  force  your  way  in  there,"  said  Irmgard. 
"You  should  only  lead  me  to  that  rusty  iron  door.  Could  you  not 
answer  now,  if  one  should  see  us  there  and  require  us  to  tell 
whither  we  thought  of  going,  that  you  had  lost  some  object  of  value 
to  you  while  working  there,  and  came  back  with  us,  as  your  friends, 
to  hunt  for  it  ?  " 

"  Ecco,  ecco  ;  what  clever  notions  you  have,  Signorina!"  exclaimed 
Beppo.  "  Such  a  thing  anyone  must  find  credible  ;  and  that  so  much 
the  more  as  it  would  occur  to  no  one  that  anybody  would  think  of 
forcing  his  way  into  the  dungeons  of  Sant  Urfizio." 

"  Well,  then,"  added  Irmgard,  "  what  could  you  have  lost  ?  " 

"What  could  it  be?  If  I  should  possess  jewels,  I  would  not 
wear  them  at  my  work." 

"  That's  so ;  then,  if  it  should  be  the  case  that  we  should  be  ob- 
served and  questioned,  say  it  is  a  silver  Agnus  Dei,  that  you  are  ac- 
customed to  wear  as  a  memento  of  your  pious  father." 

Beppo  nodded  his  head. 

"That  is  good,"  he  said  ;  "but,"  he  added,  as  if  in  suddenly  recur- 
ring anxiety,  looking  upon  Irmgard  with  a  beseeching  glance,  "  but 
must  it  really  be,  Signorina  ?  " 

Irmgard  forced  herself  to  a  smile. 

"Have  you  not  heard  that  what  a  woman  sets  her  head  on  must 
always  be  done  ? " 

Beppo  nodded  again. 

"Yes,  yes;"  he  said,  sighing;  "then  I  shall  not  be  able  to  escape 
you.  But  understand  clearly,  I  lead  you  only  so  far  as  the  way  is 
without  danger — to  that  highest  vault." 

"Only  so  far,"  assented  Irmgard.  "Where  the  danger  begins 
you  turn  back,  and  let  me  go  on  alone." 

"No,  no,"  exclaimed  Beppo,  reddening;  "it  is  not  on  account  of 
the  danger,  but  such  curiosity  as  yours  is  a  sin,  which  I  cannot  assist 
without  a  sin  of  my  own." 

"  Quite  right ;  you  shrink  only  from  the  sin,"  said  Irmgard 
smiling.  "As  far,  however,  as  you  are  able  without  sin,  you  will 
guide  us,  myself  and  my  uncle,  whom  I  will  take  with  me,  and  who 
will  protect  me  ;  and,  for  the  purpose,  dear  Beppo,  provide  a  pair 
of  lanterns  or  torches,  which  we  shall  need, —  will  you?" 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  227 

Beppo  stood  staring  at  her  and  scratching  his  head,  in  great 
disturbance  of  spirit. 

Irmgard  suddenly  arose  to  go  ;  she  gave  him  her  hand. 

"I  have  your  word,  Beppo,"  she  said  —  "I  have  your  word,  and 
you  must  redeem  it.  I  let  you  off  no  more.  I  go  now  to  my  uncle, 
to  speak  to  him  about  it." 

She  went  hastily  to  the  house. 

"Holy  Mother  of  God!"  said  Beppo,  with  a  deep  sigh,  looking 
after  her.  "If  I  gave  you  my  word,  I  must  truly  redeem  it!  But 
whither  is  this  maiden  leading  me  astray !  If  my  mother  were 
aware  of  it !  May  all  the  saints  help  us  !  " 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

NELLA    PERDUTA    GENTE. 

N  a  thoroughly  idealistic  nature  such  as  Egino's,  it  may  be 
a  benefit  to  be  for  once  surprised  and  cast  down  by  a 
stroke  which  reveals  to  it  the  entire  misery  of  humanity 
in  its  perfect  wretchedness,  without  a  veil,  without  any 
kind  of  mitigation,  without  any  possibility  of  diminishing  through 
the  beautifying  art  of  speech  the  dread  which  chases  the  serpent- 
covered  head  of  this  human  wretchedness  through  the  soul,  through 
the  joints  and  marrow. 

Without  an  experience  of  this  kind,  such  idealistic-winged  souls 
never  learn  what  the  world  is,  and  what  men  are.  Without  it  they 
never  become  startled  out  of  their  stubborn  confidence. 

Egino  was  to  have  such  an  experience.  He  lay  imprisoned  in  a 
narrow,  musty  chamber,  within  four  gray-black  walls  of  stone,  under 
a  cloister  of  the  Dominican  order  —  in  a  kind  of  intermediate  story 
between  the  deep  dungeons  below  and  the  cloister-rooms  above  him. 
This  chamber  or  cell  was  yet  one  of  the  best  of  these  horrible,  un- 
ventilated  places.  It  had  a  bed  with  a  coverlet,  a  table,  and  a  couple 
of  chairs.  There  were  no  chains  and  no  rings  fastened  to  the  walls  ; 
no  preparations  of  this  kind  were  there  to  awake  in  the  prisoner  that 
most  horrible  feeling,  the  anticipation  of  that  which  was  ahead  of 
him.  There  only  hung  from  the  vaulted  ceiling  a  chain  about  two 
feet  long  with  an  iron  ring  attached.  What  did  this  betoken  ? 
What  purpose  was  this  ring  to  serve  ?  Egino  did  not  know,  did  not 
comprehend,  but  his  feeble  glance  was  often  riveted  upon  it.  Often 
when  he  lay  upon  his  bed  in  a  half-slumber,  loatjiesome,  horrifying 
pictures  twined  themselves  about  the  rusty  black  ring ;  goblin  eyes 
coming  forth  out  of  the  twilight  peered  through  the  narrow  circle  ; 
the  ugly  phantoms  of  a  diseased  imagination  hung  to  this  horrible 
and  terrifying  mystery  over  his  head. 

223 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  229 

And  then  the  cell  had  light.  A  weak  and  insufficient  light  forced 
itself  through  a  -narrow,  high-placed,  unglazed  opening  in  the  wall. 
It  was  not  grated  ;  that  was  unnecessary,  for  it  was  too  small  to 
allow  a  man  to  slip  through  it.  The  sunlight  of  the  south,  however, 
is  strong  and  powerful.  After  accustoming  himself  to  it  a  few  days, 
it  sufficed  for  Egino  to  see  all  objects  with  more  perfect  distinctness. 

He  saw  that  the  four  stone  walls  surrounding  him  were  like  four 
leaves  of  a  book, — of  a  book  of  wonderful  contents.  It  was  like  a 
book  which  the  naked  human  soul,  in  its  purity  and  beauty,  in  its 
delirium,  and,  again,  in  cynical  shamelessness,  had  written,  as  if  it 
said,  "You  have  torn  away  from  me  the  last  garment;  now  see 
what  I  am  !"  All  that  could  be  extracted  from  human  nature  under 
the  pressure  of  despair,  had  written  itself  here  upon  these  walls  in 
confused  outcries,  in  blasphemies,  in  curses,  in  abominable  pictures, 
and  in  noble  rhymes,  in  prayers,  in  verses  of  moving  beauty.  There 
were  verses  from  Dante  and  Petrarch  scribbled  upon  these  walls  of 
stone  ;  passages  from  Plato,  Boethius,  Horace,  near  passages  from 
the  Bible  ;  forms  of  saints  and  heads  of  angels  were  drawn  there 
near  the  most  obscene  and  most  filthy  things  ;  then  again  an  Agnus 
Dei,  rosaries,  amulets,  scapularies, —  all  the  childish  puppet-play  of 
superstition. 

Egino  had  been  nursed  the  space  of  a  few  days  in  the  infirmary 
of  the  cloister  ;  when  it  was  evident  that  his  wound  was  not  danger- 
ous, that  his  enfeebled  condition  was  only  the  consequence  of  a 
great  loss  of  blood,  and  when  the  fever  from  his  wound  quickly  sub- 
sided, Padre  Geronimo  had  ordered  him  to  be  brought  into  this  cell. 
The  Padre  Infirmario  visited  him  here  once  a  day  to  look  after  his 
wound,  to  renew  the  bandages  ;  at  the  same  hour  Brother  Alessio 
brought  him  his  food  and  water.  They  had  also  brought  to  him  his 
clothing  from  the  cell  above  ;  nothing  indicated  that  they  wished  to 
treat  him  with  hardness.  But  they  did  not  speak  with  him  ;  the 
Padre  Infirmario  talked  only  of  his  wounds,  Brother  Alessio  was 
perfectly  mute — and  nothing,  absolutely  nothing,  not  once  the 
thought  of  rescue,  of  flight,  which  seemed  impossible,  of  which 
Egino  in  his  feeble  prostration  did  not  possess  the  energy  to  think, 
broke  in  upon  the  dreams,  the  meditations,  the  inquiries  of  the  pris- 
oner, upon  the  feverishly  throbbing  pulses  of  life-thought  in  him  ; 
upon  which  heated  ground,  however,  the  soul-plant  within  waxed  so 
much  the  stronger  and  more  powerful. 

His  inner  life,  as  we  saw,  had  become  a  life  of  the    soul.     His 


230  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

idealistic  nature,  in  the  hands  of  his  passion,  had  fled  into  the  saving 
shelter  of  soul-life  from  the  shock  with  which  the  cosmology  of 
Rome  threatened  him.  He  had  clung  to  his  love,  and  in  its 
presence  what  there  was  in  him  of  original,  innate  piety,  as  if 
recollecting  itself,  was  newly  inflamed  ;  the  beautiful  resignation  to 
the  Divine  which  characterized  his  childhood,  this  sweet  poesy  of  the 
young  human  soul,  had  returned  to  his  heart  like  a  warm  flood  of 
sunbeams.  Love,  poesy,  religion,  they  are  one  and  the  same  feel- 
ing ;  the  trinity  of  that  which  fills  the  human  soul ;  the  longing,  the 
longing  for  the  beautiful,  let  it  be  the  beauty  of  the  earth  or  the 
beauty  of  heaven.  The  poet,  who  gives  himself  up  to  his  dreams ; 
Dante,  who  follows  Beatrice  through  the  endless  spaces  of  creation  ; 
the  stigmatized  saint ;  the  enraptured  anchorite,  who  pursues  the 
Madonna  to  the  cot  of  eternal  peace  under  the  palms  under  which 
resound  the  harps  of  the  angels, —  they  all  equally  obey  the  one 
impulse  of  the  human  breast,  the  impulse  toward  the  beautiful. 

Egino  must,  with  this  thought,  find  himself  in  the  dirty,  dark  cell 
of  the  church  prison  in  order  to  feel  with  an  overwhelming  force  the 
horribleness  of  a  theology  which  used  such  means  of  compulsion  — 
of  compulsion  to  faith !  To  think  of  forcing  into  the  human  breast 
by  dungeons,  racks,  iron  rings  and  piles  of  fagots,  the  freest  things 
in  the  innermost  being, —  poesy,  love,  religion  ! 

It  was  fearful.  It  was  madness  seated  upon  the  throne,  with  the 
sword  of  the  highest  judgment  in  the  one  hand,  with  a  book  of  law 
written  by  a  demon  in  the  other. 

Egino  felt  that  if  ever  again  .he  should  leave  this  cell,  the  last 
bond  would  be  rent  asunder  between  him  and  this  ecclesiasticism  ; 
that  he  would  hate  it  to  the  death  ;  that  he  would  seek  his  God  with 
the  free  impulse  of  his  soul.  With  this  impulse  must  he  find  him 
truly.  The  stream  would  not  rush  in  unrestrained  course  through 
the  land,  if  the  ocean  for  which  it  strives  were  not  really  there.  The 
thirst  would  not  exist  if  there  were  no  water  at  hand  to  still  it ;  the 
eye  of  man,  with  its  desire  of  sight,  would  not  be  created  if  there 
were  no  light ;  and  so  the  eternal  thirst  for  God  would  not  burn  in 
the  human  soul,  if  there  were  no  God  into  whose  bosom  outpours 
this  stream  of  longing  which,  for  thousands  of  years,  runs  through 
humanity  with  equal  strength. 

Out  of  such  thoughts  flowed  over  him  a  peculiar  quiet,  a  peace. 
He  had,  with  a  profound  German  fidelity,  held  too  long  to  the 
faith  of  his  fathers ;  with  hundreds  of  threads  it  had  been  wound 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  231 

about  his  innermost  heart.  There  had  been  deeply  written  upon  his 
soul  what  this  faith  had  once  been  for  the  moral  order  of  the  world ; 
what  the  church  had  effected  as  the  great  mother  of  culture ;  what  it 
had  won  for  mankind,  and  to  what  manhood  it  had  led  ;  how  it 
had  restrained  savageness,  subjugated  and  enchained  the  passions, 
inspired  and  ennobled  rude  existence.  The  inner  falling  away  from 
this  faith  could  not  take  place  without  a  painful  hesitation  and 
struggle.  In  this  cell,  however,  with  his  eyes  directed  to  these 
walls,  to  the  leaves  of  this  horrible  book,  which  he  had  to  see  daily 
and  to  read,  it  became  no  less  clearly  inscribed  upon  his  mind 
that  the  ecclesiasticism  which  imposed  itself  upon  his  age  had 
forfeited  its  right  to  existence. 

Meanwhile,  as  with  dreadful  monotony  and  tediousness  one  day 
vanished  after  another,  his  strength  gradually  returned.  He  was 
still  very  weak,  but  the  feeling  of  life  stirred  more  and  more 
powerfully  in  him.  This  had  about  it  something  alarming.  Some 
one  tells  of  a  prisoner  who  saw  the  four  walls  of  his  prison 
being  gently  shoved  together,  and  could  foresee  the  day  and  the 
hour  when  they  would  touch  each  other,  suffocate  him,  crush  him  to 
•death.  For  Egino  this  growing  strength  of  the  feeling  of  life 
brought  something  similarly  grievous.  In  the  proportion  that  his 
bodily  weakness  departed  from  him,  arose  in  him  the  need  of  light,  of 
air,  of  liberty,  grew  in  him  the  feeling  of  the  intolerableness  of 
his  condition  ;  the  imprisonment  became  to  him  a  gentle  pressure  of 
the  heart  becoming  continually  harder  and  harder.  The  effort 
to  hold  out  in  this  dungeon  preyed  more  and  more  sharply  upon  his 
.strength.  He  could  look  forward  to  the  moment  when  this  power 
would  disappear  and  be  consumed ;  when  it  could  no  longer  be 
endured;  when  he  would  become  deranged  or  must  kill  himself, — 
let  himself  starve. 


VOLUME  III. 


THE  DAUGHTER  OF  EMPERORS  (Conclusion), 


ST.   CECILIA.     (RAPHAEL.) 


CHAPTER   I. 

LIVIO'S   STRATAGEM. 

IVIO  SAVELLI  would  not  have  been  Livio  Savelli  if  he 
had  not  entertained  the  firm  conviction  that  an  avowed, 
and  perhaps  guilty,  relation  existed  between  Egino  and 
Corradina.  Neither  the  customs  of  that  time,  nor  the  hot 
blood  of  the  South  in  him,  nor  his  inferences  from  the  circumstances, 
could  allow  him  to  think  otherwise.  Would  Egino  have  exposed 
himself  to  so  great  a  danger  without  being  sure  of  a  reward  for  his 
venture?  Would  it  have  been  possible  for  him,  without  the  joint 
knowledge  and  assistance  of  Corradina,  to  force  his  way  into  the  gar- 
den of  the  castle  ?  And  would  Corradina  have  saved  him  if  she  did 
not  love  him  ? 

There  was  still  continuously  boiling  in  Livio  Savelli  a  venomous 
rage  over  it.  All  his  meditations  and  thoughts  were  involved  with 
it.  He  must  annihilate  the  German  and  subjugate  Corradina  to 
himself ;  the  passion  in  him  which  desired  possession  of  her,  had, 
through  the  thought  that  she  preferred  another,  become  something 
which  racked  him  continually ;  it  had  become  an  unceasing  torment. 

Should  he  leave  Egino  to  the  monks,  to  their  Inquisition  ? 

The  Inquisition  was,  on  the  whole,  a  mild,  negligent,  drowsy 
creature  just  at  that  time.  It  was  like  a  fully  sated  tiger  digesting 
its  repast.  It  had  burned,  racked,  allowed  to  pine  away,  incarcerated 
mangled ;  it  had  exterminated  entire  populations  and  drunk  streams 
of  blood.  This  last,  however,  had  taken  place  years  before.  Now  it 
had  become  indolent  and  a  little  childish ;  it  had  gone  out  of  style. 
Once  in  awhile  the  tiger  still  stretched  itself,  as  if  to  test  the  strength 
of  its  limbs  ;  it  administered  a  stroke  with  its  paw,  and  then  a  fu- 
neral-pile flamed  forth,  like  that  of  Savonarola.  But  what  could  it  do 
then  other  than  again  fall  into  slumber,  in  a  time  when  the  people  of 
culture  read  the  writings  of  Plato  instead  of  the  Gospels ;  when 
Bembo,  the  cardinal,  wrote  to  Sadolet,  that  he  did  not  like  to  read 

235 


236  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

the  Epistles  of  Paul,  lest  he  should  injure  his  style ;  when  even  the 
Popes,  such  as  Alexander  VI.,  Julius  II.,  and  Leo  X.,  troubled  them- 
selves very  little  about  theology ;  when  it  could  be  told  of  Leo  X. 
that  he  had  said  to  Pietro  Bembo,  "  All  ages  have  been  witnesses  of 
how  useful  to  us  these  fables  concerning  Christ  have  become."  This 
was  a  slander,  but  it  was  significant  that  such  a  thing  could  have 
originated  and  have  been  repeated  innumerable  times.  The  Inquisi- 
tion had  become  something  which  no  longer  made  itself  at  all  felt  in 
certain  lands  of  Italy ;  as,  for  example,  during  the  entire  long  reign 
of  the  formerly  strong  believer,  Hercole  I.  von  Este,  not  a  single 
trial  for  heresy  was  held  at  Ferrara.  In  other  lands  it  was  some- 
thing that  moved  only  by  starts,  in  especially  provincial  opportuni- 
ties, where  cunning  and  wickedness  united  in  the  transgression  of 
dogmas  and  ecclesiastical  law.  And  even  in  Rome  it  was  no  longer 
that  which  could  have  given  Livio  satisfaction,  if  Egino  only  knew 
any  way  to  defend  himself  skillfully. 

And  as  concerning  Corradina  —  should  he  carry  out  against  her 
that  which  he  had  threatened  ?  Should  he  carry  her  away  by  force 
to  his  Castle  bei  Albano  ? 

He  dared  no  more  to  use  violence  towards  her.  He  had  his  father 
to  fear.  Since  the  day  when  the  latter  had  learned  of  the  scene 
with  Egino,  he  had  no  more  left  the  castle  on  the  Aventine  ;  he 
•occupied  there  the  chambers  always  standing  prepared  for  the  head 
of  the  house,  and  was  now  always  at  home. 

It  was  evident  that  he  had  resolved  in  jealous  passion  to  stand 
guard  over  Corradina. 

Livio  could  reach  his  aim  only  through  artifice,  also  that  of  taking 
vengeance  upon  Egino.  He  combined  both  aims  into  one  plan,  and 
hit  upon  his  preparations. 

"Corradina,"  he  said  then,  walking  into  her  chamber  on  the  same 
day  in  which  Beppo  was  urged  by  Irmgard,  and  induced  to  risk  with 
her  the  dangerous  undertaking,  — "  Corradina,  I  beg  you  not  to  be 
alarmed  at  my  coming  to  you  to-day.  I  come  to  conclude  a  peace 
with  you." 

Corradina  looked  up  and  inquiringly  directed  her  great  eyes  upon 
Livio. 

"I  do  not  fear  you,"  she  answered;  "but  the  peace  which  you 
come  to  offer  —  from  your  evil,  angry  countenance,  you  appear  to 
wish  to  unite  with  it  severe  conditions." 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  237 

"  I  come  not  to  make  conditions  with  you,  although,  perhaps,  to 
utter  some  reproaches." 

"Reproaches?     And  wherefore?" 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  candidly  that  my  passion  for  you  was 
hopeless? " 

"  That  is  the  last  reproach  I  could  expect  from  you !  I  mean  that 
candor  has  never  been  wanting  to  me,  and  you  cannot  have  for- 
gotten that  I  have  very  often,  and  very,  very  definitely,  declared  it  to 
you!" 

"What  were  these  declarations  !  With  a  woman  whose  heart  does 
not  belong  to  another,  a  man  always  has  hopes.  Only  when  it  beats 
for  another,  does  a  reasonable  man  relinquish  the  hope.  Why  did 
you  not  say  to.  me  that  your  heart  was  given  away  to  that  Ger- 
man?" 

Corradina  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"I  do  not  love  the  German,"  she  replied;  "and  if  I  did,  you  would 
be  the  last  one  to  whom  I  would  intrust  the  fact." 

"You  would  answer  me  more  amicably  if  you  knew  with  what  an 
honorable  effort  I  have  conquered  my  passion  for  you,  and  have  torn 
it  forever  from  my  heart !  " 

"You — know  how  to  conquer  your  passions  ?" 
"  It  is  as  you  say,  Corradina.     If  you,  however,  will  not  accept  it 
that  it  has  been  by  a  good  emotion  of  my  soul  or  by  a  moral  power 
that  I  have  conquered  this  passion,  then  take  it  that  it  has  been  by 
the  pride  in  me." 
"  The  pride  ?  " 
"So  I  said." 

"  Do  you  feel  yourself  degraded  by  that  which  you  call  your  love 
for  me?  That  would  be  a  more  righteous  emotion  than  I  supposed 
you  capable  of." 

"  I  feel  myself  degraded  by  it,  but  in  another  way  than  you  think. 
I  feel  myself  degraded  by  the  thought  that  another  man  has  been 
preferred  before  me.  In  the  first  hours,  days,  after  the  discovery,  I 
would  willingly  have  killed  this  man ;  I  could  with  pleasure  have 
seen  him  die  under  unutterable  torments  ;  I  have  cursed  myself  that 
my  dagger  did  not  penetrate  more  deeply,  strike  more  truly.  Since 
then,  calm  reflection  and  cool  understanding  have  become  my 
master ;  I  feel  compassion  for  this  poor  devil  of  a  German  and  for 
you,  Corradina." 

"I  do  not  need  your  compassion  ;  but  speak  further." 


238  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"You  do  not  need  my  compassion,  but  my  help." 

"  Your  help  ?     For  what  ?  " 

"To  save  this  German." 

"Do  I  wish  to  do  that?" 

"  Most  certainly.  He  has,  for  your  sake,  fallen  into  danger  and 
into  prison  ;  what  is  more  natural  than  that  you  would  even  go  to 
any  length  to  free  him  from  it  ?  " 

"Granted  that  should  be  the  case,  your  help  is  the  last  upon 
which  I  would  count." 

"  Corradina,"  said  Livio,  after  a  pause,  while  he  strode  through 
the  room,  reclined  with  his  shoulders  against  the  wall  near  the 
window-casement,  and  folded  his  arms  over  his  breast.  She,  mean- 
while, was  looking  through  this  window  straight  before  her,  beyond 
the  garden  beneath,  into  the  glowing  evening-sky  beyond  the  Janic- 
ulus,  which  poured  over  her  head  in  a  peculiarly  rosy  golden  sheen. 
"  Corradina,"  he  said,  "  through  all  this  bitterness  and  sharpness 
you  only  show  to  me  best  what  you  wish  to  conceal  from  me, —  that 
you  love  this  German  ;  you  forgive  me  the  most  natural  act,  the 
simple  deed  of  defense  which  I  committed,  not  because  it  was 
directed  against  him." 

"I  have  never  loved  a  mortal  man,"  replied  Corradina,  "not  even, 
him  ! " 

"  We  will  not  contend  about  it.  In  any  case  you  wish  to  save 
him.  And  I  —  I  wish  to  take  you  away  from  the  neighborhood, 
the  reach  of  my  father's  power  ;  but  you  will  not  go." 

"Not  to  your  castle." 

"  You  could  seek  refuge  in  some  other  standing  open  to  us,  if 
every  other  did  not  belong  to  my  father,  and  also  stand  open  to 
him.  Only  that  of  Albano  belongs  to  me,  as  my  own  assigned  por- 
tion. I  am  the  master  there ;  and  the  drawbridges  there  rise  and 
fall  at  my  signal,  and  at  that  of  no  one  else  in  the  world." 

"  Speak  further." 

"  You  save  the  German,  and,  since  he  is  still  sick  from  his  wound, 
conduct  him  to  my  castle  and  nurse  him  there." 

Corradina  slowly  lifted  her  head  to  Livio,  and  looked  at  him  ques- 
tioningly  with  her  great  eyes. 

"  Are  you  in  earnest  ?  " 

"  I  swear  it  to  you." 

"  You  save  him  if  it  is  possible  to  save  him.  Why  need  I  to 
do  it  ? " 


LUTHER    IN    ROME.  239 

"  I  would  finally,  also,  do  that,  if  I  were  certain  he  would  consent 
to  become  saved  by  me.  But  if  I  should  force  my  way  to  him,  he 
would  certainly  not  follow  me.  And  can  I  think  of  carrying  out  my 
plan  by  force,  —  with  people  to  force  my  way  into  the  dungeons  of 
the  Inquisition?  Would  my  people  risk  open  violence,  even  if  I 
were  willing  to  risk  it  ?  You  alone  can  carry  it  out  —  you  alone,  and 
in  stillness." 

Corradina  did  not  answer,  and  Livio  continued  :  — 

"  Listen  to  me.  The  affair  is  not  difficult.  Count  Egino  can 
easily  be  saved,  if  he  only  will  trust  himself  to  follow  the  one  who 
forces  the  way  to  him.  The  rooms  over  there  under  the  cloister  are 
separated  from  those  under  the  castle  by  a  not  very  strong  dividing- 
wall.  I  am  at  this  hour  having  that  wall  secretly  broken  through. 
Beyond  it  a  narrow  passage  leads  to  a  round  chapel;  around  this 
lie  the  cells  of  the  dead  ;  at  the  side  of  the  chapel  a  stairway  leads 
above  into  an  upper  passage,  to  which  other  more  airy  and  more 
roomy  cells  are  adjacent.  In  one  of  the  last  have  they  confined 
Egino  von  Ortenburg.  It  is  the  third.  The  key  is  in  my  hand  ;  I 
have  had  it  prepared  from  a  wax  impression  which  I  have  obtained. 
You  go,  now,  at  the  fourth  hour  after  Ave  Maria,  when  the  monks 
lie  asleep,  to  the  prisoner,  and  he  will  follow  you,  as  Paul  the  angel 
who  stepped  into  his  prison.  If  I  should  come  he  would  surely 
resist,  and  create  a  disturbance,  which  would  bring  the  monks  on 
our  necks  ;  and,  although  my  name  is  Livio  Savelli,  I  should  not  like 
to  fall  into,  a  close  contest  with  the  Inquisition.  I  can  also  send  no 
one ;  there  are  no  people  who,  with  me  or  alone,  would  press  into 
the  dungeons  of  Sant  Uffizio.  If  it  is  to  take  place,  you  must  do  it 
yourself,  Madame  Corradina." 

Corradina  had  remained  silent  all  this  time. 

"  In  all  that  you  are  right,"  she  said  at  last.  "And  so  I  will  do  it, 
then.  It  is  not  possible  that  cunning  and  treachery  lingers  behind 
the  whole  thing.  You  are  not  bad  enough  for  that,  Livio.  You 
could  have  no  interest  in  letting  me  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  monks 
of  Sant  Uffizio." 

"No,"  responded  Livio,  dryly,  and  entirely  avoiding  her  glance. 
"  You  will  do  it  entirely  without  danger.  A  part  of  the  way  will  I 
accompany  you  myself,  and  be  your  guide.  You  will  free  the  Ger- 
man, and  lead  him  back  through  this  castle ;  in  the  court  below  two 
mules  will  be  awaiting  you,  and  two  armed  servants,  in  order  to  bring 
you  to  Albano.  There  no  one  shall  harm  a  hair  of  your  head  or  his. 


240  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

So  we  both  will  have  accomplished  what  we  wish.  He  will  be  saved, 
and  that  is  what  you  wish ;  you  will  be  removed  from  the  power  of 
my  father,  —  that  is  what  I  wish  !  " 

"And  I  will  be  given  into  your  power!  "  remarked  Corradina. 

"  How  inextinguishable  and  cruel  your  mistrust  is !  You  do  me 
wrong,  Corradina." 

"  I  have  reasons  to  be  on  my  guard,"  said  Corradina,  curling  her 
lips  with  an  expression  full  of  bitterness,  "toward  you  no  less  than 
toward  your  father,  and  all  that  surround  you." 

"  But  you  hear  now  that  my  mind  is  changed  since  I  know  that 
you  love  this  German  !  " 

Corradina  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  So  much  so  that  you  give  yourself  all  the  trouble,"  she  replied, 
"to  find  out  where  Egino  lies  imprisoned,  how  these  dungeons  are 
arranged,  how  one  can  force  a  way  into  them,  that  you  will  defy  the 
danger  of  penetrating  into  them  — all  of  that  out  of  zeal  to  rescue  a 
man  whom,  as  you  believe,  I  love  ?  What  magnanimity !  Messer 
Ludovico  Ariosto  should  devote  to  it  a  dozen  stanzas  in  the  heroic 
poem  on  which  he  is  laboring  !  " 

Livio  smiled. 

"  Messer  Ludovico  Ariosto  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"Why  do  you  repeat  the  name  ?  " 

"  Because  he  stands  in  nearer  connection  with  the  matter  than  you 
are  aware." 

"Who  — Ariosto?" 

"  If  not  he,  exactly,  still  his  court,  his  master,  the  illustrious 
Alfonso  von  Este,  and  his  consort,  the  golden-haired  Madame 
Lucretia." 

"Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  explain  that  to  me  ?"  asked 
Corradina. 

"  I  will  tell  you  everything,  to  dissipate  entirely  your  mistrust. 
You  know,  years  ago,  when  the  Borgia  were  still  our  masters,  and 
your  Luca,  Don  Cesare's  friend,  I  was,  to  some  extent,  the  friend  of 
Donna  Lucretia.  We  all,  all  the  young  nobility  of  Rome,  and  I, 
most  of  all,  then  lay  in  her  bonds,  the  beautiful,  charming  woman." 

"  I  know  ;  so  much  as  a  child  can  find  out  of  such  things.  I  heard 
of  it." 

"  Well,  then,  Lucretia  has  since  become  the  wife  of  Alfonso  von 
Este ;  and  Alfonso  von  Este  is  here." 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  241 

"He  is  here,  the  Duke  of  Ferrara?  He  is  carrying  on  war  with 
the  Pope,  and  is  here  ?  " 

"Just  so.  He  was  the  Pope's  truest  ally  and  gonfalonier  of  the 
church ;  then,  when  our  Lord  Giulio  with  his  help  had  conquered  his 
enemies  and  made  a  conquest  of  Romagna,  the  Holy  Father  con- 
cluded peace  with  the  former  enemies,  and  carried  on  war  with  his 
ally.  Ferrara  may  have  seemed  to  him  very  suitable  to  round  out 
the  conquests  in  Romagna.  In  this  contest  the  fortune  of  war 
went  against  the  duke ;  he  wished  for  peace,  and  has  several  times 
sued  .for  it  in  vain.  Once  he  sent  Ariosto  with  such  a  message,  but 
in  vain  ;  finally  he  has  found  a  friend  in  Fabricio  Colonna,  who  has 
rendered  the  Holy  Father  favorably  disposed  toward  him,  and  he  is 
here  to  perform  the  act  of  submission  and  homage  required  of  him. 
I  saw  him  yesterday  in  the  house  of  the  Colonna.  He  brought  to 
me  greetings  from  Madame  Lucretia,  and  invited  me  to  Ferrara  — 
heartily  and  pressingly.  I  burn  to  see  Madame  Lucretia  again  as 
the  faithful,  modest  housewife  and  beautiful  princess  of  Ferrara,  in 
the  midst  of  a  splendid  court,  surrounded  by  talented  and  noble 
men." 

"You  will  indeed  go  to  Ferrara  ?  " 

"  Even  so ;  you  know  that  '  old  love  never  dies.'  I  will  accom- 
pany Alfonso  on  his  return  home ;  and  thus,  I  think,  you  have  a 
key  to  that  which  you  so  bitterly  name  my  magnanimity.  I  cannot 
go  away  and  be  quiet  in  soul,  if  I  leave  you  behind  here  in  this 
house.  You,  however,  I  say  to  myself,  will  not  leave  it  if  the  Ger- 
man does  not  leave  it  with  you ;  so  save  the  German  for  yourself, 
then  leave  it." 

Corradina  looked  upon  Livio's  countenance  awhile  in  silence. 

"Who  can  look  into  the  heart  of  man  ? "  she  said  then. 

"I  have  let  you  look  into  mine,"  rejoined  Livio,  quietly.  "Make 
up  your  mind  !  " 

"  Is  the  German,  then,  so  recovered  from  his  wound  that  he  is  in 
a  condition  to  flee  ? "  she  asked,  after  a  pause. 

"  He  was  prostrated  by  fever  from  the  wound.  That  is  past ; 
he  is  still  feeble,  but  sufficiently  recovered  to  hold  out  for  a 
short  journey.  So  they  have  informed  me." 

"Well,  then,  I  am  ready  to  do  what  you  wish." 

"  And  you  relinquish  your  mistrust  toward  me  ?  " 

"  Do  you  make  that  a  condition  of  your  assistance  ?" 

"  No ;    I  only   wish  it.     I   require  no  conditions    of  you  —  not    a 


242  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

single  one.  If  I  say  to  you  to  conduct  the  German  to  my  castle  and 
have  him  cared  for  there  till  he  is  recovered,  that  is  also  no 
condition  which  I  require  of  you,  but  only  the  pressure  of  circum- 
stances which  demands  it." 

"Well,  then,  Livio,  I  will  believe  and  trust  you,"  said  Corradina. 
"  You  will  not  deceive  my  confidence,  will  you  ?  " 

"Nevermore.     Do  you  wish  oaths?" 

"No.     I  am  even  ready  to  do  without  that  what  you  advise." 

"Good;  so  we  are  agreed.  I  rejoice  over  that,  and  hope  we  shall 
evermore  do  so.  Give  me  your  hand.  I  leave  you  now.  I  am 
going  to  see  how  far  my  trusty  laborer  has  advanced  with  his 
still  work  deep  under  our  feet.  You  may  now  take  for  yourself  the 
key  to  the  German's  cell. 

"Also  till  the  fourth  hour  after  Ave  Maria,"  replied  Corradina, 
taking  with  emotion  the  heavy  key  which  Livio  drew  forth. 

"  Till  the  fourth  hour.  Be  ready  then,  and  clothed  for  a  ride  in 
the  cool  night  air.  I  will  have  a  mantle  for  the  German  thrown  on 
the  mule." 

Livio  departed. 

Corradina  listened  to  the  receding  steps.  When  they  died  away 
she  sprang  up  and  went  hastily  out  on  the  balcony,  and  there  walked 
to  and  fro. 

"What  trickery  lurks  behind  this?"  she  asked  herself.  "Does 
Livio  believe  I  am  really  so  easy  to  deceive  as  to  see  in  all  his  speech 
nothing  but  a  sincere  goodness,  a  returning  to  virtue,  or  the  wish  to 
be  able  to  travel  quietly  to  Ferrara  ?  O  my  God !  have  you  men  for 
this  purpose  surrounded  me  for  years  with  the  wild  scenes  of 
your  passions  to  let  me  believe  in  your  honesty  ? " 

Her  step  became  more  slow  ;  folding  her  hands,  looking  at  the 
ground,  she  moved  slowly  up  and  down. 

"  If  I  were  to  refuse,"  she  said  then  in  a  low  tone,  "  Egino  would 
then  remain  in  the  dungeons  of  the  Dominicans  perhaps  long  years, 
perhaps  forever  !  He  has  acted  too  insolently  not  to  call  forth 
their  vengeance  :  he  has  the  secret  of  my  marriage,  and  they 
must  fear  him.  There  is  no  hope  for  him  if  I  do  not  save  him 
as  Livio  has  planned." 

"  Well,  then,  I  will  do  it  !  I  will  do  it  even  at  the  risk  that 
even  there  lies  the  snare  into  which  Livio  wishes  to  entice  me.  Yet 
no,  it  does  not  lie  there ;  it  cannot.  He  cannot  wish  that  his  sister- 
in-law,  a  woman  bearing  the  name  of  Savelli,  fall  into  the  hands  of 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  243 

the  Inquisition,  and  that  the  world  find  out  that  the  house  which 
gave  to  the  church  three  popes,  saw  a  heretic  among  its  members. 
The  snare  into  which  I  would  fall  lies  beyond  these  walls.  The 
passion  of  his  father  is  a  clanger,  but  also  a  protection  for  me.  I  am 
to  be  enticed  out  of  his  father's  neighborhood  to  Castle  Savello, 
into  his  house.  Against  that  alone  am  I  to  guard  myself.  And  I 
will  do  it !  Let  me  be  out  there  in  the  night,  on  the  back  of  a 
strong  mule,  under  the  protection  of  Egino,  and  I  will  ride,  not  to 
Castle  Savello,  but  to  Palliano.  To  her,  to  his  wife,  will  I  flee ; 
and  she  will  receive  me  with  rejoicing,  and  protect  me,  in  order  to 
put  him  in  a  rage.  Oh  !  these  men.  And  what  a  humiliating  situa- 
tion when  my  safety  depends  upon  having  the  evil  passion  of  one  to 
protect  me  from  that  of  the  other !  I  am  horrified  at  all  these  men 
and  their  wild  career.  And  how  long  will  it  be,  if  I  save  Egino,  till 
I  shall  also  be  filled  with  dread  from  his  passion  ?  Also  he,  also  he 
will  begin  to  utter  these  speeches  which  stir  me  up,  —  which  say  to 
me  I  was  born  to  be  a  man's  true  helpmeet ;  while  I  scorn  entirely  to 
become  the  companion  of  a  life  which  is  worthless  in  the  world,  like 
a  wave  more  or  less  in  the  sea,  —  but  false  and  cunning  as  they. 
In  short,  that  they  will  make  me  a  wife  dishonored,  treated  with 
disrespect,  as  they  all  are.  Will  he  also  talk  in  that  way  ?  God 
stand  by  him,  then  ;  the  others  I  scorn,  but  him  — yes,  him  I  could 
hate.  I  believe  I  could  kill  him  if  he  should  open  his  lips  to  talk 
to  me  as  the  duke,  as  Livio  presumes  to  do  ! " 

After  uttering  this  in  most  violent  emotion,  she  sank  into  silent 
reflection;  then,  as  if  rising  out  of  thought,  she  smoothed  with 
the  palms  of  her  hands  the  hair  from  her  brow. 

"  Let  us  think  now  only  of  saving  him,"  she  whispered. 

She  went  into  her  chamber,  in  order  to  prepare  herself  for  the 
journey  which  stood  before  her  in  the  night. 

Would  that  she  had  been  able  to  look  down  from  her  lofty  balcony 
into  the  little  house  far  below,  by  the  gardens  of  the  Colonna,  where 
even  now  a  poor  German  maiden  was  preparing  for  the  same 
dangerous  passage  which  she  also  wished  to  go  over  this  night  ! 


CHAPTER  II. 

IN   THE    NIGHT. 

|T  was,  according  to  our  reckoning,  the  eleventh  hour  of 
the  night. 

Livio  stepped  into  Corradina's  chamber ;  he  found 
her  prepared  for  departure.  She  wore  over  the  bodice 
a  camora  of  warm  cloth,  the  shapeless,  loose-fitting  jacket,  and 
over  that  the  long  sbernia,  a  broad  over-garment  of  black  velvet  with 
trimming  of  dark  fur.  Covering  her  head  was  a  hat  of  the  same 
material  as  the  camora  with  a  pearl  buckle,  otherwise  unadorned, 
without  a  feather. 

At  her  girdle  hung  down  under  her  sbernia  a  budget,  a  graceful 
leathern  pocket  swelled  out  round  and  hard.  Corradina  must  have 
put  in  it  what  it  would  take  in  of  ready  cash  and  little  necessities. 

"You  are  ready,  I  see,"  said  Livio;  "it  is  just  the  right  moment. 
In  the  castle  everything  is  still,  and  over  in  the  cloister  the  monks 
in  their  first  deep  sleep." 

"I  am  ready.  What  servants  will  you  furnish  me  on  the  way 
to  Castle  Savello  ?  " 

"  Niccolo  and  Giuseppe,"  answered  Livio  ;  "  they  wait  with  the 
mules  in  the  shadow  of  the  archway  down  in  the  court." 

"Only  they?" 

"  Certainly,  only  they.  Do  you  think  I  would  have  intrusted  our 
secret  to  more  than  necessary  ?  You  may  yourself  suppose  that  it 
is  convenient  for  me  that  the  monks  never  find  out,  in  regard  to  the 
stroke  which  we  play  them,  that  I  have  had  a  hand  in  the  game. 
Upon  Niccolo  and  Giuseppe  I  can  depend ;  also  upon  the  mason 
waiting  below,  in  order,  when  we  have  accomplished  the  deed,  to 
close  again  the  opening  in  the  wall,  so  that  no  one  may  notice  what 
has  happened,  and  the  monks  will  believe  in  a  miracle." 

"And  who  will  light  us?" 

344 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  245 

"  I,  myself.  My  body-servant,  Antonio,  is  waiting  out  there  with 
torches." 

"  Call  him  in  here." 

"  What  for  ? " 

"  That  he  may  carry  down  out  of  my  bedroom  for  me  the  valise 
which  I  have  packed  with  my  most  necessary  articles,  and  buckle  it 
to  the  saddle  of  my  mule." 

Livio  nodded,  and  went  out  to  send  Antonio  upon  this  errand. 
Corradina  then  took  her  gloves,  felt  about  her  girdle  to  be  assured 
that  the  dagger  stuck  in  it  was  there,  then  stepped  out.  Outside 
came  Livio  with  the  burning  torch  of  the  servant,  who  went  now  to 
attend  to  Corradina's  charge.  Livio  walked  in  advance.  Through 
an  angular  passage  they  came,  treading  softly,  to  a  landing  of  the 
great  stairway,  which  discharged  itself  below  into  the  court  under 
the  same  inclosing  archway.  Corradina  heard  the  stamping  of 
mules  and  whispering  voices  in  one  of  the  angles.  She  went  on> 
following  Livio,  into  the  rooms  of  the  basement ;  then  down  into  a 
region  which  she  did  not  know,  into  which  she  had  never  been 
before.  They  passed  through  a  half-open  door,  behind  which  a  steep 
stairway  descended,  at  first  built  out  of  stones,  then  hewn  out  of  the 
rock ;  there  was  at  the  foot  of  the  stair  a  vault,  the  walls  of  rock, 
the  ceiling  arched  with  dressed  stone ;  several  of  these  rooms  suc- 
ceeded, separated  by  immense  pillars  which  supported  the  vault ; 
here  and  there  the  way  was  narrowed  by  partitions  of  wooden  planks 
blackened  by  time ;  the  floor  was  dirty,  so  that  they  now  slipped, 
now  trod  upon  some  kind  of  broken  pottery,  now  sank  in  as  if  step- 
ping upon  modern  remnants  of  refuse.  The  last  room  was  inclosed 
by  a  wall  in  the  background.  When  the  light  of  Livio's  torch, 
which  lighted  this  under-world  glaringly  and  with  ghastliness  with 
its  red  flame,  fell  upon  this  wall,  Corradina  saw  that  it  had  been 
unartistically  constructed  out  of  the  most  unlike  materials,— out  of 
layers  of  brick,  of  bits  of  old  marble,  of  old  building-stones.  In  the 
middle  of  it  an  opening  had  been  broken  large  enough  to  let  a  man 
through.  The  stones  that  had  been  broken  out  lay  in  orderly  heaps 
near  by ;  the  light  of  the  torch  also  fell  upon  a  vessel  with  mortar 
and  upon  the  tools  of  a  mason.  It  was  as  Livio  had  said, —  every- 
thing ready  to  close  the  opening  again,  only  the  man  who  should  do 
this  was  not  visible. 

"I  have  sent  him  away,"  whispered  Livio;  "it  is  not  necessary 
that  he  should  see  you ! " 


246  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

Corradina  did  not  answer ;  she  followed  courageously  through  the 
opening,  when  Livio  had  forced  himself  through  in  advance  of  her. 
Beyond,  a  room  surrounded  her  similar  to  the  last,  only  it  was 
smaller,  and  opposite  to  the  broken  wall-opening  a  passage  led  out 
of  it  farther  into  the  substructions  of  the  cloister.  Livio  also  here 
still  walked  in  advance,  a  distance  of  about  twenty  steps,  to  a  great 
expansion  of  the  passage.  This  expansion  formed  a  circular  room, 
which  had  the  appearance  of  something  like  a  subterranean  chapel. 
A  strong  pillar  stood  in  the  middle  supporting  the  vault,  and  to  this 
pillar  a  little  altar  was  attached ;  it  stood  elevated  above  a  few  steps ; 
a  lofty  crucifix  arose  over  the  gray  altar-plate,  which  no  altar-cloth 
covered. 

Livio  extended  his  torch  before  him  into  the  room,  and  pointing 
to  a  place  which  lay  next  to  him  of  the  encircling  wall,  he  said  in  a 
low  tone  :  — 

"This  is  the  Chapel  of  the  Immured.     There  are  their  niches." 

The  flame  of  the  torch  dwindled  and  burned  less  brightly.  In  the 
room  prevailed  a  peculiar,  inexpressibly  disgusting  smell,  —  a  pesti- 
lential atmosphere,  under  whose  influence  the  light  of  the  torch 
diminished. 

"There  are  the  niches,"  whispered  Livio,  while  he  pointed  to 
the  wall. 

Around  the  chapel  deep  recesses  had  been  built  of  masonry  or 
hewn  out ;  walls  either  inclosed  these  entirely  in  front,  and  in  them 
was  then  formed  a  little  quadrangular  opening,  which  allowed  one  to 
look  out,  and  through  which  food  could  be  shoved,  —  or  the  walls 
were  broken  down  to  about  three  feet  from  the  floor. 

Corradina  was  seized  with  shuddering ;  she  shrunk  back. 

"O  God!"  she  said,  "and  do  the  unfortunate  ones  languish  here?" 

"  No,"  whispered  Livio,  in  return  ;  "  there  would  then  be  a  light 
burning  on  the  altar :  they  kindle  a  light  for  them,  that  they  may 
recognize  there  the  Christ  who  does  not  help  them." 

"  To  whom  they  are  brought  as  human  sacrifices  !  It  is  horrible ! " 
whispered  Corradina,  staring  around  at  the  walls,  and  as  if  fixed  to 
the  floor  by  fright. 

Livio  held  the  torch  higher.  Its  light  fell  upon  the  ugly  caricature 
over  the  altar,  that  appeared  dark,  blackened  by  time  and  dust, 
unspeakably  frightful  with  its  disfigured  features. 

"O  my  God,  what  have  they  made  of  him  ? "  whispered  Corradina, 
taking  a  deep  breath. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  247 

"That  which  they  need, —  an  idol,"  answered  Livio.  "But  let  us 
not  make  observations  about  that.  Here,  behind  the  pillar,  you  see, 
a  narrow  stairway  leads  up  into  a  passage  in  the  upper  story ;  it  is 
the  third  door,  you  know.  Have  you  the  key  ?  " 

"I  have  it,"  she  replied  almost  inaudibly.     "Give  me  the  torch." 

"Wait  —  we  will  light  the  altar-lamp ;  I  think  there  will  still  be  oil 
enough  in  it.  It  would  make  me  gray  to  be  obliged  to  stay  behind, 
here,  in  the  dark." 

He  pushed  'nearer  to  him  the  earthen  vessel  half  filled  with  a 
thick,  dirty  oil,  which,  serving  as  a  lamp,  stood  upon  the  altar,  and 
he  succeeded  in  lighting  the  half-burned  wick  therein  with  the 
torch.  It  crackled  awhile,  and  threw  out  little  sparks ;  then  the 
slender  wick  began  to  burn  brighter,  and  sparingly  lighted  up  the 
round  chapel  room,  the  altar,  the  picture  of  Christ  over  it,  and  the 
stone  surface  of  the  pillar  behind  it.  When  Corradina  withdrew  in 
order  to  enter  courageously  upon  the  course  she  was  to  make  alone, 
and  when  she  disappeared  with  the  torch  behind  the  pillar,  the  lamp 
threw  only  a  feeble  twilight  around ;  it  sufficed  only  to  make  visible 
the  circular  wall  and  the  niches  in  it. 

Livio  seated  himself  upon  the  steps  of  the  altar.  He  listened 
to  the  steps  of  Corradina  gently  and  carefully  mounting  a  stair. 
They  died  away  after  a  few  moments.  Then  all  was  still ;  only 
the  lamp  sputtered  ;  it  struggled  with  the  air  in  this  room.  Livio's 
breast  also  began  to  struggle  with  it.  He  breathed  with  difficulty. 
And  —  what  was  that?  Livio  thought  he  heard  a  suppressed 
breathing;  he  turned  his  head  and  looked  behind  him.  It  was 
nothing. 

Livio  waited  long. 

Also  outside,  up  in  the  castle  court,  the  men  tarrying  there  waited 
long. 

The  mules,  placed  in  the  shadow  of  the  archway,  began  to 
stamp  with  waxing  impatience  the  broad  stone  slabs  with  their 
hoofs.  To  Niccolo  and  Giuseppe,  who  held  them  by  the  reins, 
to  Livio's  trusted  servant,  Antonio,  who  clasped  to  one  of  the 
beasts  Corradina's  valise,  had  stepped  up  the  mason,  who  awaited 
the  appearance  of  Livio,  and  the  order  to  repair  below  and  take 
up  again  his  work  on  the  penetrated  wall.  He  came  to  them  to 
shorten  the  time  of  waiting  through  chat.  At  length,  also,  out 
of  some  lurking-place  in  the  broad,  adjacent  court,  slipped  three 
wild-looking  figures  with  goatskins  on  their  legs  and  firearms  on 


248  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

the  back  ;  genuine  bandits,  than  which  the  Sabine  or  Volsci  Moun- 
tains never  produced  any  more  picturesque  and  more  forbidding 
in  appearance. 

"Holy  body  of  the  Madonna!"  exclaimed  one;  "if  nothing  is- 
to  come  of  the  affair  to-night,  Sor  Antonio,  His  Excellency  should 
tell  us,  that  we  may  go  and  sleep." 

"  You  can  sleep  the  whole  day  to-morrow,"  glumly  answered 
Antonio,  an  elderly,  meager  man,  with  a  slow,  peculiarly  muffled 
nature.  "  Go  back,  so  that  the  Lady  Countess  may  not  see  you  when 
she  comes  with  the  German  whom  she  believes  herself  to  have 
rescued.  You  know,  indeed,  she  must  not  be  aware " 

"We  know  that,  we  know  that,"  said  another  ;  "but  we  should  also* 
like  to  know " 

"Benedetto!  A  man  who  would  like  to  know!"  said  Antonio, 
interrupting  him.  "The  less  you  know,  you  blockhead,  so  much 
the  better  for  you.  Do  you  comprehend  that,  just  so  you  know 
enough  for  your  job  !  " 

"  If  His  Excellency  wishes  us  to  wait  still  longer,  let  him  send  out 
to  us  a  brazier,"  remarked  the  third  of  the  bandits,  wrapping  himself 
closer  in  his  mantle. 

"  Or  a  brazier  with  liquid  fire  in  it,  which  warms  the  stomach  and 
keeps  one  awake,"  said  the  first. 

"  The  devil !  "  here  said  Giuseppe  in  a  low  tone  ;  "  that  would  not 
be  bad,  Sor  Antonio,  for  the  night  is  cold,  and  waiting  makes  the 
stomach  empty." 

"  If  these  dogs,  whom  the  Countess  Corradina  must  not  see,  will 
creep  back  into  their  kennel,  I  will  go  and  fetch  what  you  wish," 
whispered  Sor  Antonio.  "Go,  Lanfranco,"  he  turned  then  to  the 
first  of  the  three  bandits,  "go,  and  press  yourself  into  the  shadow.  I 
will  bring  you  then  hither  a  warm  jug,  as  you  wish,  but  be  still. 
Niccolo,  give  your  mule  a  kick  in  the  belly,  so  that  the  beast  will 
leave  off  his  stamping." 

Niccolo  snatched  the  head  of  his  mule  high  up  by  the  bit. 

"  Accursed  beast !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  will  stick  a  knife  into  your 
body  if  you  do  not  stand." 

Giuseppe  stroked  the  neck  of  his  beast  to  keep  it  patient. 

"  My  dear,  my  sister,"  he  said,  while  doing  it,  "  patience,  patience  ; 
then  you  shall  carry  the  most  beautiful  countess  into  the  mountains, 
far,  far  away  ;  my  sister,  you  shall  carry  her,  only  you  !  " 

Antonio   had,    in   the   meantime,    turned   and    passed   diagonally 


LUTHER    IN  ROME,  249 

through  the  archway  to  the  stair  leading  upward  into  the  interior, 
when,  from  up  in  the  inner  part  of  the  building,  from  far  off,  and  per- 
ceptible only  on  account  of  the  stillness  of  night,  one  perceived  the 
shrill  note  of  a  whistle. 

"Ecco  !  They  come,"  said  the  men  standing  around  the  mules ; 
and  the  three  bandits  slipped  away,  in  order  not  to  be  caught  by 
Livio,  who  had  commanded  them  to  show  themselves  for  the  first 
time  when  they  were  outside  of  the  city. 

On  the  first  stair-landing  which  Antonio  reached  he  remained 
standing.  He  heard  the  shrill  whistle  again. 

"Corpo  di  bacco"  he  whispered  to  himself ;  "that  sounds  out  of  the 
rooms  of  the  old  man !  We  shall  fail  if  he  mixes  himself  in  the 
affair ! " 

Antonio  took  one  of  the  two  burning  torches  which  were  stuck 
into  the  wall-rings  on  the  stair-landing,  then  he  mounted  higher,  and 
having  arrived  above  he  passed  into  the  passage,  in  order  to  bring 
out  of  some  room  the  wine  which  should  appease  the  impatience  of 
the  people ;  yet  before  he  had  reached  the  door  of  this  room  he  saw, 
at  the  end  of  the  passage,  a  form  emerge,  which  was  likewise  carry- 
ing a  torch  in  the  hand  and  coming  quickly  to  him. 

'•  Eh,  Antonio,  what  is  the  matter  there  ?  "  exclaimed  the  figure, 
with  a  loud  voice. 

"  Giovan-Battista,  you  ?  "  answered  Antonio,  with  displeasure. 
"What  do  you  want?  Why  are  you  awake  and  up?" 

"  The  old  lord  has  wakened  me,"  said  Giovan-Battista.  "  He  says 
he  has  perceived  in  the  court  the  hoofstrokes  of  horses  or  mules, 
and  other  noises.  What  has  happened  ?  What  is  going  on  ? " 

"  It  seems  to  me  the  old  lord  has  ears  like  a  mole,"  replied 
Antonio.  "Why  doesn't  he  stick  his  gray  head  into  his  pillow  and 
sleep  ?  " 

"Ask  him  yourself.  In  the  first  place,  speak  and  give  me  infor- 
mation." 

"  Information  ?     About  what  ?  " 

"About  what  is  taking  place.     Why  you  are  here,  Sor  Antonio  ?  " 

"  Does  that  concern  you  ? " 

"Not  me,  but  His  Excellency  wishes  to  learn." 

"  Then  tell  him  Lanfranco  and  his  two  nephews  have  come  from 
Albano,  and  have  brought  four  barrels  of  oil.  I  go  now  to  bring  the 
fellows  a  drink  of  wine." 


250  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  You  lie,  in  fact,  Sor  Antonio ;  but  I  will  go  to  tell  him  what  you 
say the  devil !  There  he  is  himself." 

The  Duke  of  Aricia  came  striding  down  the  passage.  He  was  just 
placing  a  leathern  girdle  around  the  long  robe  into  which  he  had 
thrown  himself ;  it  was  provided  with  a  cowl,  and  he  looked  like  a 
monk  as  he  came  quickly  striding  forward, —  only  it  was  evident  when 
he  reached  the  light  of  the  torch  that  the  robe  was  of  dark-red 
velvet,  and  too  costly  for  a  monk. 

"Antonio,"  he  said,  with  his  hawk  eyes  blinking,  and  on  that 
account  holding  his  hand  as  a  shield  against  the  dazzling  flame, 
"  whither  are  you  going  ?  What  means  that  noise  in  the  court  ?  " 

"  Your  Excellency,"  put  in  Giovan-Battista,  "  it  is  Lanfranco  with 
his  two  nephews,  who  bring  four  barrels  of  oil  on  their  beasts  of 
burden  from  Albano " 

"Go  forward  with  the  torch,"  broke  in  the  duke,  without  listening 
to  his  words. 

"Excellency,  do  not  go,  but  let  me  give  you  information,"  said 
Antonio,  who  in  an  instant  had  calculated  that  if  he  could  detain  the 
duke  with  a  narration,  he  would  thus  create  for  his  master  just  that 
much  space  of  time  in  order  there  below  to  carry  away  Corradina 
and  the  German  in  the  saddles,  if,  perhaps,  Livio  was  just  now 
returning  with  them. 

"Well,  then,  speak,"  answered  the  duke. 

"Giovan-Battista  should  not  hear  it,  Your  Excellency." 

"Then  step  back,  Giovan-Battista,"  ordered  the  duke  to  his  body- 
servant. 

Giovan-Battista  drew  himself  farther  back  into  the  corridor. 

"My  Lord,"  now  began  Antonio,  "has  forced  his  way  into  the 
prisons  over  there  under  the  cloister " 

"  Ah  !  Livio  has  forced  his  way  in  there,  and  without  telling  it  to 
me  ? " 

"  Just  so,  Your  Excellency.  I  have  been  compelled  some  days  ago 
to  speak  with  one  of  the  lay  brethren  over  there, —  Fra  Alessio,  he 
is  called  ;  and  he  is  a  good-natured  old  boy,  who  comes  from  my 
neighborhood,  from  Marino  at  home,  and  a  kind  of  a  cousin  he  is ;  a 
man,  Your  Excellency,  like  a  child,  who " 

"To  the  devil  with  your  Alessio  !  Go  on,  go  on  !  "  exclaimed  the 
duke,  angrily. 

"  From  Alessio  I  have  found  out  where  they  have  confined  the 
young  German  count,  and  then  I  have  had  him  take  a  wax  impres- 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  251 

sion  of  the  lock  of  his  cell.  It  is  the  third  when  one  goes  up  out  of 
the  Chapel  of  the  Immured,  and  comes  into  the  passage  above ;  also 
where  the  Chapel  of  the  Immured  lies,  has  Fra  Alessio  described  to 
me " 

"All  out  of  good  nature  ?  "  asked  the  duke,  interrupting. 

"  As  you  please  to  call  it,  Your  Excellency,"  responded  Antonio. 
"  Out  of  good  nature,  perhaps,  also,  a  little  out  of  excitement  over 
fifty  scudi  which  I  had  brought  him  from  Count  Livio,  and  had  stuck 
into  the  sleeve-opening  of  his  gown." 

"Goon." 

"Thereupon  Count  Livio  has  had  a  key  made  from  the  wax  im- 
pression, and  as  he  was  ready;  to-day,  in  secrecy,  in  the  twilight,  he 
has  conducted  a  mason  into  the  vaults  under  the  castle.  What  the 
man  has  done  there  and  what  he  is  still  to  do,  he  can  tell  you  him- 
self, for  he  is  down  in  the  court,  awaiting  Count  Livio's  return." 

"  And  Livio  is  even  now  down  in  the  vaults  ?  He  will  bring  the 
German  out  ?  And  is  he  alone  ?  " 

"No  ;  the  Countess  Corradina  accompanied  him." 

"  Corradina  is  with  him  ?  Holy  Mother !  And  all  that  behind 
my  back !  But  what  are  the  mules  for  ?  If  he  wishes  to  get  the 
German  away  from  the  monks,  what  need  has  he  of  the  mules  ? 
Have  we  not  here  in  the  castle  dungeons  in  order  to  .confine  a  male- 
factor, and  firm  stones  to  lock  him  therein  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know,  Your  Excellency.  Countess  Corradina  appears  to 
wish  to  ride  away  with  the  German,  accompanied  by  Niccolo  and  Giu- 
seppe. Besides,  Count  Livio  has  also  had  Lanfranco  and  his  nephews 
to  come  ;  they  shall  follow  unobserved.  And  what  more  they  are  to 
do  I  know  not ;  Count  Livio  has  not  given  his  orders ;  I  do  not 
know  them." 

"Acddente!"  muttered  the  duke  between  his  teeth,  stepping  quickly 
forward  down  the  passage.  "This  tricky  Livio,  who  wishes  to  steal 
the  German  from  the  monks  and  Corradina  from  me.  Giovan-Bat- 
tista,"  he  called,  turning  ;  "  where  are  you,  blockhead  ?  Listen  to  me 
—  Antonio,  forward;  I  will  see  for  myself  what  your  master  is  doing 
down  there." 

"To  tell  you  the  truth  candidly,"  whispered  Antonio,  now  already 
near  his  hastening  excellency,  who  was  descending  the  stairway  lead- 
ing down  into  the  court,  "it  is  preferable  to  me  that  you  have  come 
to  see  about  it ;  Count  Livio  tarries  so  immeasurably  long,  there 


252  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

has  fallen  upon  my  heart  a  heavy  anxiety  about  what  can  have  hap- 
pened to  him." 

"Anxiety?  What  is  there  to  happen  to  him?"  said  the  duke. 
"Granted,  even,  that  he  should  be  surprised  by  the  monks  —  he  is 
not  the  man  to  let  them  cut  off  from  him  the  way  of  retreat  ;  and 
I  do  not  think  the  idea  will  occur  to  them  of  trying  to  cut  off  Livio 
.Savelli's  retreat.  How  long  is  it  since  Livio  went  ?" 

"Almost  a  half-hour,  Your  Excellency." 

"  A  half-hour !  Most  blessed !  that  is  truly  a  long  time.  And 
why  have  you  not  followed  him,  then,  Antonio  ? " 

"Because  he  has  expressly  forbidden  it,  and  because  I  had  not  the 
-desire  to  fall  under  ban,  which  Count  Livio  risks  more  easily  than 
his  body-servant,  Antonio  Tarmucci." 

"In  spite  of  that  you  will  now  let  it  come  under  ban,  Antonio 
Tarmucci,"  said  the  duke,  redoubling  his  steps.  "You  will  call  the 
mason  hither,  and  you  two  will  then  lead  me  the  way  which  Livio 
has  gone  with  the  Countess  Corradina." 

They  had  arrived  down  in  the  archway.  Antonio  walked  quickly 
•over  to  where  the  men  stood  near  the  mules,  beckoned  to  the  mason, 
then  turned,  followed  by  the  latter ;  after  a  few  moments  they  had 
been  received  by  the  rooms  into  which  Livio  and  Corradina  had 
disappeared.  Antonio  went  in  front  with  his  torch,  the  duke 
followed,  the  mason  and  Giovan-Battista,  with  the  second  torch, 
closed  up  the  rear,  on  the  way  down  the  stairs  and  through  the  dark 
cellar  rooms. 

They  moved  in  silence ;  they  reached  the  penetrated  wall ;  the 
Duke  of  Aricia  stepped  close  to  the  opening,  listened,  stretched 
his  head  forward,  then  passed  with  courageous  step  into  the  dark 
room  beyond,  while  he,  turning  back,  whispered  to  his  son's  body- 
servant  :  — 

"  Everything  is  still.  I  see  only  a  shimmer  of  light ;  it  must  be  in 
Ihe  chapel  of  which  you  spoke,  Antonio." 


CHAPTER   III. 

• 

IN    THE    CHAPEL   OF    THE    IMMURED. 

|HE  light  was  glimmering  out  of  this  chapel.  We  have 
there  left  Livio  sitting  upon  the  steps  of  the  altar,  await- 
ing Corradina's  return.  The  minutes  had  gone  by  slowly 
to  him.  It  had  begun  to  chill  him  in  the  musty,  damp- 
chilled  room  ;  a  shudder  passed  over  his  limbs.  Staring  upon  the 
niches  before  him,  he  felt  his  glances  gradually  becoming  dazed, 
as  if  fettered  by  them  through  something  unspeakably  dismal. 
There,  in  the  twilight  depths  of  these  niches,  behind  the  half-broken- 
down  walls  by  which  these  were  inclosed,  did  there  not  move 
shadows, —  shadows  of  something  living,  slowly  rising,  and,  again, 
sinking  down, —  as  if  these  niches  still  had  their  occupants,  their 
victims, —  as  if  there  were  still  in  the  dark  recesses  of  the  walls, 
beings  convulsed  by  the  death-struggle  ? 

It  was  stupid  and  foolish  to  look  at  it,  since  it  was  only  the  effect 
of  the  gentle  movements  of  the  oil-lamp  upon  the  altar,  which  was 
still  sputtering  there  from  time  to  time,  and  carrying  on  the  struggle 
for  its  existence  in  the  heavy  atmosphere ;  it  was  stupid  thus  to 
stare  upon  something  which  was  not  there  at  all ;  and  still  Livio  was 
filled  with  dread  thereby. 

He  heard  .again  also  a  breath.  Foolishness!  As  if  forms  that 
were  not  there  could  breathe !  And  then  a  slight  crash,  as  if  a  sole 
had  been  gently  pressed  upon  the  floor.  Was  there  something 
living  in  these  vaults  ?  No,  nothing !  Nothing  but  the  silent 
shadows  were  there  which  attracted  Livio's  glance,  and  from 
which  he  turned  himself  away  by  an  effort  of  will. 

He  felt  for  his  girdle,  and  drew  forth  the  dagger  hanging-  down 
from  the  girdle  by  two  silver  chains.  The  handle  was  round  and 
engraved,  the  blade  three-edged.  Livio  tested  the  point  upon  the 
nail  of  his  left  thumb.  Still  it  was  too  dusky  in  the  room  to  be  able 
to  see  how  deep  the  point  cut  in.  Livio  placed  the  weapon  between 


254  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

his  knees  upon  the  altar-steps  under  him,  drew  his  knees  up  and  hid 
his  face  in  his  hands,  in  order  not  to  be  obliged  to  look  any  more  over 
into  the  recesses. 

"  She  stays  a  long  time,"  he  whispered.  "  Perhaps  he  is  dead  , 
perhaps  Alessio  has  let  me  be  deceived ;  perhaps  my  first  stroke  was 
enough,  and  there  is  no  need  of  the  second.  Then,  however,  how  to 
get  her  to  Castle  Savello  ? " 

Awhile  he  sat  there  in  this  way  ;  more  minutes  long  in  which  he 
might  have  busied  himself  with  plotting  how  he  should  allure  Corra- 
dina  to  his  castle  at  Albano,  if  Egino  was  dead  from  his  wound. 
Then  he  heard  the  breathing  again. 

A  strong,  no  more  to  be  mistaken,  almost  snorting  expiration  — 
close  before  him. 

Livio  raised  his  head,  and  his  wide-open  eyes  perceived  something 
which  filled  him  with  a  perfectly  unutterable  dread. 

His  heart  ceased  to  beat ;  his  eyes  seemed  bursting  from  their 
sockets  while  they  stared  upon  this  object,  which  had  grown  up  out 
of  the  floor  before  him. 

There  —  immediately  before  him  —  dazzlingly  lighted  by  all  the 
light  which  the  lamp  behind  Livio  could  emit,  stood  a  figure  of  a 
man,  if  it  was  not  some  hideous  offspring  of  the  night,  —  a  devil  — 
an  inexpressibly  ugly,  grinning  head,  with  wild,  gray  hair  grown  low 
down  upon  the  narrow  brow  ;  with  a  nose  like  that  of  a  mask ;  under 
this  a  hump;  and  hanging  down  right  and  left  of  this  two  long 
arms, — long  enough  to  be  able  almost  to  touch  the  floor. 

It  was  frightful.  Standing  before  Livio  in  these  surroundings  with 
this  suddenness,  in  the  red  glow  of  the  struggling  oil-light,  it  was  a 
surprise  which  could  deprive  a  man  of  weaker  nerves  than  Livio's  of 
his  senses. 

The  man,  or  the  ghost,  or  the  devil,  whatever  it  was,  grinned ; 
under  the  thick,  protruding  lips  gleamed  forth  huge,  long  teeth. 
Still  he  appeared  not  to  have  stepped  to  Livio  so  stealthily  with  any 
hostile  intent ;  and  when  he  lifted  his  arm,  it  was  perhaps  because 
he  believed  Livio  to  be  asleep,  and  wished  to  waken  him. 

But  Livio's  fright  did  not  permit  him  to  make  such  observations. 
In  the  same  instant  when  the  heart,  standing  still  in  the  first 
moments,  began  again  with  powerful  throbs  to  propel  the  blood, 
which  suddenly  returned  to  him,  he  followed  the  instinct  of  fear,  of 
self-preservation  ;  he  seized  the  dagger  between  his  knees,  and  the 
blade  flashed  in  the  light  of  the  lamp.  It  cut  already  the  cheek  of 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  255 

the  frightful  form  there  before  him  ;  when  just  as  quickly  a  powerful 
fist  laid  upon  his  throat  a  grasp  like  that  of  a  cramping-iron,  and  a 
long  arm  stretched  itself  out  so  far  that  Livio  could  only  thrust 
about  in  the  air  with  his  dagger,  but  no  more  reach  his  antagonist. 

"  Now  stab ! "  was  growled  forth  in  hollow  tones  from  the  breast 
of  the  monster,  while  Livio's  struggling  to  free  himself  only  had  the 
effect  of  causing  the  throttling  fist  to  grasp  his  throat  with  redoubled 
force. 

And  in  this  instant  another,  a  second  form,  was  there  near  the 
first,  throwing  itself  between  the  latter  and  Livio.  Livio  perceived 
it,  and  his  hand  flourishing  his  dagger  thrust  toward  it,  and  struck 
it ;  that  he  felt,  but  then  it  became  dim  before  his  eyes.  He  could  no 
longer  distinguish  who  or  what  this  second  supposed  antagonist 
was  ;  he  could  no  longer  hear  how  a  voice  whispered  eritreatingly :  — 

"  Let  loose,  let  him  loose,  for  God's  sake  !  You  are  choking  him, 
Uncle." 

"  If  I  let  him  loose,  he  will  call  for  help  and  call  the  monks  hither, 
who  will  burn  us  up,"  exclaimed  Uncle  Kraps  between  his  teeth. 
"  I  will  make  him  cold,  the  dog,  for  stabbing  me! " 

Irmgard  wished  to  make  an  effort  to  tear  away  the  dreadful  hand 
of  her  uncle  from  Livio's  neck,  but  in  this  instant  she  felt  herself 
suddenly  become  powerless ;  besides,  she  felt  a  violent  pain  be- 
tween her  breast  and  shoulder.  She  sank  back,  gliding  down  at  the 
side  of  her  uncle.  Thus  she  sank  upon  the  uppermost  altar-step. 

"Now  you  will  not  stab  again!"  said  Uncle  Kraps,  without 
observing  her,  with  a  grin  of  triumph  over  his  fearful  strength  dis- 
torting his  visage.  "  You  will  not  stab  again  ;  now  lie  there  in  com- 
pany with  your  knife  !  " 

He  threw  Livio,  who  no  longer  moved,  full  length  upon  the 
floor. 

"O  my  God!"  whispered  Irmgard,  speaking  with  difficulty  — 
"  Uncle,  Uncle,  what  have  you  done !  You  have  strangled  him,  and 
I  could  not  help  it  —  I  became  so  weak.  We  must  get  away,  away  ! 
Help  me  get  up,  and  then  away  ! " 

"  Are  you  struck  ? "  said  Uncle  Kraps,  stooping  to  Irmgard,  to  take 
hold  of  her  and  lift  her  up. 

"  Struck  —  here  !  " 

Irmgard  pointed  with  her  left  hand  toward  her  right  breast,  and 
lifted  herself  up. 

"  Come,  only  come,"  she  added  ;  "  if  only  the  lantern  is  not  gone 


256  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

out !     I  let  it  fall  to  the  floor  in  fright  when  I  saw  what  you  were 
doing." 

Uncle  Kraps  took  Irmgard  up,  in  order  to  carry  her  forth,  when  a 
bright  light  suddenly  fell  upon  the  chapel ;  softly  hastening  steps,  at 
the  same  time,  with  the  loud  crackling  of  a  resinous  torch,  became 
audible, — double  steps,  as  if  of  two,  who  were  approaching. 

"  Some  one  is  coming  ;  away,  away  !  "  gasped  Irmgard,  hastening  a 
step  forward. 

Then,  however,  she  fell  all  doubled  up. 

Uncle  Kraps  was  just  on  the  point  of  taking  her  into  his  arms 
like  a  child,  when  a  hand  was  placed  upon  his  shoulder. 

Turning  his  head,  he  looked  into  the  pale  face  of  a  man  glancing 
at  him  with  fever-lighted  eyes, —  a  face  that  he  knew.  Near  it 
was  another,  —  that  of  a  woman  strange  to  him. 

"Count  Egino!"  gasped  Irmgard  in  this  moment.  "O  Count 
Egino  —  you  —  you  rescued  ?  " 

Over  the  Uncle's  countenance  spread  a  pecular  grin  as  of  defiance, 
and  at  the  same  time  of  shame.  As  if  Egino's  sudden  appearance 
were  the  most  simple  and  explicable  thing  in  the  world,  he  pointed 
to  the  corpse  of  Livio,  and  gasped  forth,  rather  than  spoke  the 
words,  breathing  hard  :  — 

"  I  have  made  him  cold  !     He  has  stabbed  me  ! " 

Uncle  Kraps  had  evidently  at  this  moment  only  sense  and  thought 
for  the  one  deed  that  he  had  strangled  a  man  ;  only  the  one  impulse 
to  justify  his  deed,  like  a  surprised  child.  Egino,  however,  stared 
with  horrified  glance  upon  him,  upon  Irmgard,  who  was  drawn  up  in 
the  arms  of  her  uncle  now  supporting  her,  upon  the  corpse  of  Livio, 
around  upon  the  room,  and  with  weak  voice  he  stammered  :  — 

"What  a  dream  this  is, —  what  a  dream  !  " 

"  It  is  no  dream  that  you  see,"  whispered  a  voice, — the  voice  of  the 
female  form  which  stood  near  him,  carrying  a  torch  in  one  hand, 
with  the  other  encircling  Egino's  upper  arm.  "The  corpse  is 
Livio's  !  Who  are  these  people  ?  "  she  added,  hastily. 

"  My  best  friends,"  said  Egino,  still  continuously  staring  upon  the 
group  as  if  he  did  not  trust  his  senses. 

"  Count  Egino,  come, —  come  and  follow  us  !  "  exclaimed  Irmgard, 
with  difficulty,  while  she  closed  her  eyes,  and  let  her  head  fall  mo- 
tionless upon  the  shoulder  of  her  uncle. 

Uncle  Kraps  walked  away  in  a  direction  exactly  opposite  to  that 
from  which  Corradina  had  previously  come  with  Livio.  He  carried 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  257 

Irmgard  like  a  child  upon  his  left  arm,  with  the  right  he  picked  up, 
in  going,  a  lantern  lying  upon  the  floor ;  it  still  was  burning,  and  let 
one  descry  the  dark  passage  opening  in  the  chapel  wall,  to  which 
Uncle  Kraps  approached  with  his  burden,  lifting  the  lantern  high 
up. 

"  Let  us  follow ;  let  us  follow  ;  let  us  flee  with  them  ! "  exclaimed 
Egino,  making  a  few  steps  forward  with  tottering  foot. 

"  With  them  ?  "  said  Corradina.  "  Yes,  yes,  let  us  flee  with  them  ; 
what  else  remains  for  us  !  Come,  come ;  support  yourself  more  upon 
me;  lay  your  arm  upon  my  shoulder, —  come  !  " 

She  led,  almost  carried  him.  Her  right  arm  had  enclasped  him, 
his  left  hand  rested  upon  her  left  shoulder ;  with  the  left  hand  she 
bore  the  torch. 

"We  must  go  with  them,"  she  said,  "and  see  if  there  is  an  exit 
into  liberty.  I  dare  not  go  back  whence  I  came.  We  would  pass 
for  Livio's  murderers.  I  would  rather,  since  you  are  too  weak  to 
kill  a  man,  they  would  kill  us  both  on  the  spot ! " 

"And  to  those  others,"  replied  Egino,  quickly,  "you  may  with  im- 
punity intrust  your  fate." 

"  I  am  compelled  to  do  so.     Then  on  !     God  will  protect  us  !  " 

They  disappeared  in  the  narrow  passage,  through  which  the  yellow, 
dazzling  light  of  their  torch  flickered  before  them. 

Into  the  chapel  the  former  stillness  and  twilight  again  entered, 
with  which  the  little  lamp  on  the  altar  struggled. 

Thus  a  considerable  time  fled  by,  till  from  the  side  of  the  castle 
steps  and  voices  were  heard ;  it  was  the  duke  and  his  companions. 

Antonio  came  first. 

Antonio  was  the  only  one  who,  through  Fra  Alessio,  had  any 
definite  knowledge  of  the  arrangement  of  the  rooms,  and  according 
to  Alessio's  description,  he  had  also  been  able  to  initiate  his  master 
therein. 

The  rest  followed  the  duke ;  all  four  had  soon  reached  the  chapel, 
where  the  little  oil  lamp  burned  on  the  altar.  Now  the  bright  torch- 
light poured  itself  into  the  twilight  room  of  the  Chapel  of  the 
Immured. 

"  Most  holy  Madonna  ! "  exclaimed  Antonio,  espying  the  lifeless 
body  of  his  master. 

The  next  moment  the  duke  stood  near  him. 

"The  master,  the  master, — -he  has  been  killed!"  exclaimed 
Antonio. 


258  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

Already  the  duke  had  stooped  over  and  taken  him  by  the 
shoulder,  as  if  to  lift  him  up ;  then  he  hastened  to  rise  again.  With 
a  cry  which  trembled  with  peculiar  dismalness,  echoing  in  the  dread- 
ful chapel,  he  exclaimed  :  — 

" Iddio  !     Livio  !     He  is  dead, —  he  is  dead  !  " 

Antonio  threw  the  light  of  his  torch  on  the  pale,  disfigured  face 
with  the  protruding  tongue,  the  outbursting,  wide-open  eyes. 

"  He  has  been  strangled, —  choked  !  "  exclaimed  Antonio. 

The  duke  smote  his  hands  together;  rubbed  his  temples  with 
them,  as  if  to  hold  them  around  his  head,  that  it  might  not  burst,, 
with  all  the  horrible  thoughts  which  rushed  through  his  brain  ; 
wrung  his  hands  again,  and  said  in  faltering  accents  :  — 

"O  God  !    who  has  killed  him  ?     Who  has  killed  my  child  ? " 

"  Poor  Master  ? "  said  Antonio,  kneeling  down  near  the  body  of 
his  master  and  breaking  into  a  flood  of  tears. 

"Where  is  the  murderer,  that  I  may  tear  him  in  pieces, —  that  I 
may  make  him  die  a  thousand  deaths  !  "  exclaimed  the  duke  suddenly, 
in  an  outburst  of  rage,  raising  his  folded  fists  high  above  his  head. 

"The  murderer?"  exclaimed  Giovan-Battista,  struggling  for 
breath  ;  "  where  will  he  be  ?  Up  there  !  " 

"  Whereabouts  up  there  ?  "  asked  the  duke. 

"  Eh,  do  I  know  ?  But  yet  a  child  sees  into  that !  The  monks 
have  surprised  the  poor  Lord  Livio  in  his  sacrilege  in  forcing  his 
way  into  the  dungeons  of  the  Inquisition,  and  have  choked  him  for 
it.  The  Countess  Corradina,  as  less  guilty,  they  may  have  dragged 
up  stairs  there,  and  secluded  her  somewhere." 

"  Impossible  !  "  cried  the  duke.  "  How  would  they  have  dared  to 
do  it  ?  And  still,  how  can  it  otherwise  have  been  ?  How  can  it 
otherwise  have  happened  ?  O  Antonio,  Giovan-Battista,  run,  bring 
me  weapons  here  ;  wake  my  people ;  we  will  strike  them  dead,  all 
of  them,  to  the  last  one.  We  will  burn  the  cloister  down ;  we  will 
put  powder  into  the  vaults,  and  send  everything  that  stands  over  it 
to  the  devil,  in  revenge." 

While  the  duke,  with  frothing  mouth,  continued  to  vent  himself 
in  threats  against  the  supposed  murderers  of  his  .son,  the  mason 
plucked  by  the  sleeve  Antonio,  who  was  kneeling  over  the  corpse. 

"  Sor  Antonio,"  he  said,  "  look  here  once." 

Antonio  arose  and  followed  him. 

The  mason,  who,  during  the  foregoing,  had  been  looking  around 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  259 

the  chapel,  led  him  to  the  opening  in  the  circular  wall  through 
which  Egino  and  the  rest  had  saved  themselves. 

He  pointed  to  a  drop  of  resinous  matter  lying  upon  the  floor, 
which  was  still  smoking,  and  which  had  evidently  dripped  from  a 
torch. 

"Body  of  the  Madonna!"  said  Antonio,  "here  is  another  way 
which  does  not  lead  up  into  the  cloister,  but  probably  into  the  open 
air." 

He  went  with  the  mason  farther  into  the  passage.  Holding  the 
torch  to  the  floor,  he  found,  from  time  to  time,  more  of  such  drops 
of  resin. 

The  duke  and  Giovan-Battista  followed  them  as  they  were  dis- 
appearing. 

"  Whither  will  you  go  ?  Whither  does  this  passage  lead  ?  "  cried 
the  duke  to  Antonio. 

"We  are  examining  it,"  answered  the  latter;  "we  find  drops  of 
resin  and  footprints.  More  persons  have,  a  short  time  since,  come 
through  the  passage,  Your  Excellency." 

What  Antonio  said  was  not  to  be  doubted.  The  floor  of  the  pas- 
sage was  of  rock,  but  -here  and  there  it  presented  a  soft,  muddy 
earth,  as  if  formed  out  of  layers  of  dust  centuries  old,  and  here 
were  also  fresh  but.  confused  footprints. 

The  men  pressed  forward  ;  they  came,  after  they  had  gone  a  dis- 
tance of  perhaps  sixty  steps,  to  the  end  of  the  passage.  An  old, 
rusty,  iron-grated  door  formed  of  strong  bars  stood  open  ;  it  stood 
in  a  large,  dark  room,  had  evidently  been  forced  open,  —  for  the  iron 
slot  in  which  the  bolt  had  been  held  had  indeed  been  bent  to  one 
side  by  some  kind  of  strong  instrument,  —  and  lifted  half  out  of  the 
old  wall. 

Antonio  lifted  his  torch  higher,  in  order  to  light  up  the  dismal 
room  into  which  they  were  now  looking. 

The  wall-work  showed  that  they  had  to  do  with  a  very  ancient 
structure,  quadrangular,  with  the  corners  cut  off  and  arched, —  some 
kind  of  an  old  temple  substruction  ;  still,  there  must  be  somewhere 
a  connection  with  the  outer  world,  for  a  gentle  draft  began  to  blow 
back  the  flames  of  the  torches ;  Antonio,  also,  after  making  some 
steps  forward,  cried  out,  while  violently  bounding  back  :  — 

"  Back,  back  ;    the  floor  is  broken  through  here  !  " 

All  yielded  back,  in  order  not  to  precipitate  themselves  with  the 
broken  vault  upon  which  they  stood,  as  was  shown  by  the  rim  of  an 


2<5o  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

opening  a  few  steps  before  their  feet.  Only  the  duke  tore  the  torch 
out  of  the  hand  of  Antonio,  and  stepped  forward,  close  to  the  edger 
in  order  to  throw  the  light  down. 

"There  lies  a  heap  of  rubbish  under  there  ;  one  can  easily  spring 
down,"  he  said. 

"  For  what  purpose,  Your  Excellency  ?  "  replied  Antonio,  taking 
the  torch  back  out  of  his  hand.  The  fresh  air  streaming  in  to  meet 
us  shows  that  those  who  have  broken  through  the  grated  door  have 
found  an  exit  down  there.  And  so  all  is  explained.  The  German 
has  indeed  been  freed  from  his  prison-cell,  but,  in  the  Chapel  of  the 
Immured,  he  has  refused  to  follow  Count  Livio.  Your  son,  Your 
Excellency,  has  wished  to  force  him  ;  the  German  has  struggled  with 
him,  and  choked  him,  and  has  then  fled  this  way  with  the  Countess 
Corradina." 

"  Then  this  German,  who  was  still  sick  and  enfeebled  by  his 
wound,"  said  the  duke,  shaking  his  head,  "must  possess  the 
strength  of  a  lion,  —  or  the  Countess  Corradina  must  have  aided 
him  with  all  her  powers.  Perhaps  it  was  she  who  knew  this  way 
and  told  him  of  it." 

"  Perhaps,"  responded  Antonio.  "  But  come  back,  my  lord.  My 
advice  is  that  we  carry  Count  Livio  away  into  the  castle ;  that  the 
mason,  as  he  was  ordered,  build  up  again  the  forced  opening  in  the 
wall,  and  the  monks  will  never  learn  that  Count  Livio,  that  we, 
ourselves,  have  broken  into  their  domains.  They  may  ascribe  to  a 
miracle  the  manner  in  which  the  German  has  escaped  them.  It  is 
better  so,  that  upon  the  house  of  Savelli  no  suspicion  fall  of  having 
seized  upon  their  right,  and  of  having  committed  a  sacrilege." 

"  And  who,  who  obtains  revenge  for  me  ?  Would  not  these  monks 
be  just  the  best  bloodhounds  to  find  out  for  me  the  fugitives?" 

A  low,  lingering  note  trembled  feebly  through  the  dark  halls. 

"  Come,  come,  Your  Excellency  ;  the  matin-bell  is  being  rung. 
They  will  be  wakened  in  the  cloister  ;  let  us  hasten,  or  else  they 
will  hear  us,  and  take  us  by  surprise." 

Antonio  then  seized  by  the  arm  the  duke,  still  standing  at  the 
edge  of  the  vault-opening  with  folded  arms,  staring  into  the  black 
depths,  and  drew  him  away. 

They  hastened  back,  and  after  a  short  time  Livio's  body  had  dis- 
appeared from  the  Chapel  of  the  Immured.  In  the  last  cellar-room 
under  the  castle  of  the  Savelli,  however,  was  the  mason,  with 
Antonio's  help,  busily  engaged  in  replacing  stone  upon  stone  in  the 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  261 

breach  of  the  wall,  so  that  only  a  thorough  investigation  could  enable 
one  to  discover  what  had  happened  here. 

Up  in  the  castle,  in  the  room  in  which  we  have. already  once 
looked  upon  the  corpse  of  a  Savelli,  feigning  life,  however,  and 
arrayed  for  a  wedding,  lay,  upon  Luca's  bed,  the  rigid  body  of  his 
brother  ;  and  near  the  bed,  looking  down  upon  him  with  staring 
glance,  stood  the  Duke  of  Aricia,  pale,  quaking,  murmuring  inco- 
herent words. 

Giovan-Battista,  who  glided  with  noiseless  step  over  the  carpet,  in 
order  to  light  countless  waxen  candles  upon  the  silver  candelabra, 
did  not  understand  them. 

Niccolo  and  Giuseppe,  however,  sprung  long  since  upon  the 
mules,  which  had  waited  so  long  in  the  court,  now  through  the  night 
hastened  to  the  castles  in  the  mountains,  to  Aricia,  to  Albano ; 
other  servants  to  dependents  and  clients  in  the  city,  to  let  it  be 
known  that  the  last  heir  of  the  house  of  Savelli  had  been  murdered. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BROTHER   MARTIN. 

JT  was  the  hour  of  noon  of  the  following  day.  Brother 
Martin  had,  in  the  morning,  quietly  taken  his  language  les- 
son with  the  old  Hebrew.  Now,  he  was  much  excited  by 
that  which  his  order-brethren  were  telling  at  the  noon- 
day meal  of  what  had  taken  place.  The  rumor  of  the  death,  of  the 
murder  of  Count  Savelli  had  penetrated  even  into  the  cloister  walls, 
as  it  had  now  already  been  heard  in  every  house  in  the  city.  They 
also  knew  of  the  disappearance  of  the  Countess  Corradina ;  and  the 
hasty  conclusion  that  she  had  killed  her  kinsman,  was  too  closely 
bordering  upon  it  not  to  be  immediately  formed  by  each  one  who 
manifested  any  interest  in  the  occurrence. 

Of  the  flight  of  Egino  the  brethren  had  not  spoken.  The  sons  of 
St.  Dominicus  must  not  have  found  it  for  their  good  to  let  that 
become  known.  One  knew  nothing  but  the  two  facts  that  the 
Countess  Corradina,  in  the  past  night,  had  wished  to  ride  to  a  castle 
in  the  mountains  (wherefore,  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  was  a 
mystery ) ;  and  that  to  the  people  of  her  retinue,  waiting  ready  in 
the  court,  the  news  had  come  that  Count  Livio,  the  heir  of  the 
house,  had  been  found  strangled  or  poisoned,  and  that  the  Countess 
Corradina  had  fled,  no  one  could  say  upon  what  road. 

Brother  Martin  was,  of  course,  surprised  and  excited  over  all  this ; 
he  was  also  wonderfully  moved  by  the  way  and  manner  in  which  the 
news  had  been  received  at  the  table  of  the  monks.  It  was  about  as 
one  to-day,  in  a  great  city,  in  the  morning  receives  the  news  that 
there  has  been  a  fire  in  one  quarter  of  the  town.  It  was  then  a 
customary  thing  in  Rome  for  one  to  find  in  the  morning  hours  three 
or  four  murdered  men  upon  the  streets. 

They  would  not  have  spoken  of  the  accident  at  all,  perhaps,  if  it 
had  not  occurred  in  so  great  a  house  as  that  of  the  Savelli,  and  if  it 
had  not  possessed  the  charm  of  mystery. 

262 


LUTHER'S   MEMORIAL   AT   WORMS. 


LUTHER    IN    ROME.  263 

Brother  Martin  had  returned  to  his  cell,  and  was  on  the  point  of 
going  out  to  Signor  Callisto  Minucci's,  to  talk  with  him  about  this 
event,  when  he  heard  out  in  the  passage,  called  very  loudly  and  by 
several  voices  at  once  :  — 

"Fra  Martino  !    Fra  Martino  !  " 

At  the  same  time,  just  as  he  shoved  back  the  bolt,  the  door  of  his 
cell  was  hastily  torn  open  ;  two-  monks,  behind  whom  stood  a  man 
clad  in  a  waistcoat  of  dark-red  damask,  with  a  short,  black  mantel 
over  it,  rushed  in,  and  cried  at  the  same  time,  in  excitement :  — 

"  Fra  Martino,  you  shall  come  to  His  Holiness  ;  the  Holy  Father 
wishes  to  talk  with  you." 

"With  me  ?  "  asked  Brother  Martin,  in  alarm. 

"  So  it  is  ;  here  is  a  courier  who  is  to  bring  you  in  haste  to  the 
Vatican." 

The  courier  made  with  the  uplifted  hand  that  gesture  which 
appears  as  a  waving  off,  and  yet  which,  to  an  Italian,  signifies, 
"  Come  here  !  " 

At  the  same  time  he  said  :  — 

If  you  are  the  German  monk  who  recently  accompanied  Monsig- 
nore  di  Ragusa  to  the  house  of  Raphael  Santi,  you  must,  without 
delay,  just  as  you  are,  follow  me  to  the  Holy  Father." 

"  I  am  the  German  monk,"  answered  Brother  Martin,  "and  I  will 
follow  you  ;  I  am  ready  to  go  out." 

The  courier  turned  about. 

Brother  Martin  followed  him,  and  the  monks,  in  astonishment, 
looked  after  them  both. 

"  What  does  the  Holy  Father  intend  to  do  with  the  poor  Fra 
Martino  ?  "  they  asked  themselves,  and  then  went  to  spread  the 
news  in  the  whole  cloister. 

In  order  to  answer  this  question,  let  us  go  in  advance  of  Brother 
Martin  to  the  high-towering  castle  into  which  the  German  brother 
has  been  ordered  to  the  presence  of  Christ's  vicegerent. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    INCARNATION   OF   CHRIST   IN   THE   VATICAN. 

|T  is  an  earnest,  severe,  commanding  countenance !  This 
man,  who  is  the  never-dying  Moses  of  the  people  of  God, 
commissioned  to  lead  them  as  shield  and  shepherd  through 
the  wilderness  of  mortal  life  into  the  heavenly  Canaan, 
not  according  to  a  pillar  of  fire,  but  truly  according  to  the  divine  illumi- 
nation, which  blows  upon  him  from  the  gentle  vibrations  of  the  dove 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  fluttering  around  his  head  —  this  man  had  some- 
thing of  the  form  and  features  of  Moses,  as  Michael  Angelo  has 
carved  out  the  powerful  statue  of  the  latter  in  marble.  Giuliano 
della  Rovere,  as  Pope  Julius  II.,  was  sixty-seven  years  of  age,  but 
his  powerful  and  firmly  built  frame  stood  erect,  as  is  fitting  in  a  com- 
mander. His  rather  blunt  than  sharply  chiseled  features  evinced 
that  he  had  lived, —  lived  in  labor,  in  exhausting  excitement,  and  in 
enjoyment  ;  but  the  marks  of  growing  feebleness  and  relaxation 
were  not  in  them  :  the  man  was  full  of  elastic  strength  in  his  step 
and  in  his  gestures,  which  became  something  violent,  angular,  when 
excitement  broke  through  the  assumed  dignity.  He  spoke  abruptly, 
loudly,  and  with  sharp  accent  ;  his  voice  easily  took  on  a  tone  which 
sounded  like  anger. 

The  characteristics  of  his  appearance  were  ennobled  by  the  gray 
beard,  which,  in  spite  of  the  long-disused  style,  he  had  allowed  to 
grow  to  its  natural  length. 

In  one  of  the  chambers  of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  that  part  of  the 
Vatican  building  which,  as  we  said  before,  was  at  that  time  covered 
along  its  front  by  the  scaffolds  of  the  loggia  structure,  he  was  walk- 
ing to  and  fro,  in  a  large  and  beautiful  room  with  heavily  carved 
wooden  ceiling  adorned  with  paint  and  gilding  Costly  stuff  wrought 
into  tapestry  covered  the  walls,  and  a  great  carpet  extended  itself 
through  the  chamber,  at  whose  upper  end  a  table  and  a  high-backed 
easy-chair  stood  upon  a  platform.  Upon  the  table  were  a  high 

354 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  265 

crucifix,  writing  materials,  some  paper  and  parchments  with  seals 
attached  ;  near  the  chair  a  footstool.  By  the  wall  of  the  room  were 
some  divans,  and  in  one  of  the  deep  window-niches  a  little  table 
with  mosaic  top,  upon  which  stood  a  decanter,  a  Venetian  glass,  and 
two  gilded  bowls,  one  containing  fruits,  the  other  confections. 
Julius  II.  was  not  intemperate,  but  he  loved  wine.  His  enemies 
accused  him  of  liking  it  too  well.  In  his  long,  white  house-robe  he 
walked  slowly  to  and  fro ;  but  he  interrupted  his  course,  from  time 
to  time,  to  step  up  to  the  window-niche  and  drink  the  dark-red  juice 
of  the  grape  contained  by  the  decanter. 

There  were,  besides  him,  four  or  five  other  men  present  in  the 
room.  Three  of  them  we  have  seen  before.  One  was  Padre  An- 
selmo,  the  sacristan  and  father-confessor  of  the  Pope;  the  second, 
the  fat  man  with  the  florid  face  and  the  strongly  squinting  eyes,  was 
Monsignore  Tommaso  Inghirami,  his  savant,  the  man  who  gave 
information  where  any  question  arose  for  the  settling  of  which  we 
to-day  have  recourse  to  an  encyclopedia ;  finally,  the  third  was 
Padre  Geronimo,  the  Dominican,  the  Inquisitor  of  heretical  deprav- 
ity. The  first  two  sat  upon  the  long  divan  by  the  wall,  where  a  nod 
from  the  Pope  had  permitted  them  to  take  their  places ;  Padre 
Geronimo  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  while  Julius  II.  was 
speaking  with  him  and  walking  past  him  up  and  down. 

"  It  is,  indeed,  a  very  mysterious  story,  Your  Holiness,"  said 
Padre  Geronimo.  "Count  Livio  Savelli  is  dead,  —  is  choked  to  death  ; 
Countess  Corradina  has  fled  ;  but  can  she  have  choked  him,  — she,  a 
weak  woman,  choke  a  strong  man  ?  No ;  certainly  not.  For  choking 
there  is  needed  the  fist  of  a  man,  and  a  strong  and  sinewy  one  at 
that ! " 

"  And  where  did  they  find  him  strangled  ?  "  asked  the  Pope. 

"That  I  cannot  tell  you,  Holy  Father,  for  the  Duke  of  Aricia 
gave  only  evasive  answers.  But  in  the  same  preceding  night  in 
which  Livio  Savelli  was  put  to  death,  the  German  count,  Corradina's 
lover,  as  we  have  said,  has  also  fled  from  our  keeping.  We  know 
not  who  has  led  him  out  of  the  cloister ;  we  know,  however,  that  he 
has  escaped,  and  we  have  been  able  to  pursue  the  course  which 
other  persons,  whose  tracks  we  found,  had  taken  with  him.  Have 
these  men,  not  satisfied  with  slipping  secretly  into  our  cloister  and 
freeing  the  German,  afterward  forced  their  way  into  the  castle  of 
the  Savelli  in  order  to  steal  away  Corradina,  and  at  this  opportunity 
throttle  Livio  Savelli  ?  It  is  not  credible  ;  one  may  say  that  would 


266  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

be  an  altogether  impossible  temerity!  And  yet  the  murder,  the 
flight  of  Corradina,  the  flight  of  the  German,  must  have  a  con- 
nection." 

"You  capture  these  people,"  said  the  Pope.  "Have  you  not 
bloodhounds  enough  ?  Capture  them,  and  you  will  ascertain  the 
connection.  Bring,  then,  Livio  Savelli  a  worthy  death-offering.  I 
grant  it  to  this  poor  Duke  of  Aricia.  The  man  is  to  be  pitied.  His 
Livio  was  a  pliable  fellow.  But  these  men  all  go  to  the  ground  be- 
cause they  are  not  what  they  ought  to  be ;  that  is  the  part  of  the 
affair  which  is  not  obscure  !  These  barons  !  God  has  placed  them 
as  watchmen  and  servants  around  this  our  Holy  Chair,  as  he  in 
heaven  has  placed  around  his  throne  the  archangels  and  legions. 
They,  however,  have  believed  that,  instead  of  its  protectors,  they 
could  make  themselves  its  tyrants,  and  have  beaten  it  in  pieces  in 
order  to  take  its  fragments  for  their  own  !  God  punishes  them.  He 
has  punished  them  through  us,  as  we  have  broken  their  power,  and 
their  children  choke  each  other  or  suffocate  together  in  the  mire  of 
their  sins.  What  more  do  you  wish,  Padre  Geronimo  ?  Go  and  let 
spies  be  sent  after  the  fugitives  ;  since,  as  you  say,  this  German 
count  is  still  weak  and  sick  from  his  wound,  before  inflicted  upon 
him  by  Livio  Savelli,  he  cannot  have  fled  beyond  the  city." 

"  We  have  sent  out  detectives,  Holy  Father,"  answered  Padre 
Geronimo.  "  We  have  first  sent  to  his  lodgings  ;  the  keepers  of  the 
hotel  and  his  servant  appear  not  to  have  learned  anything  of  him." 

"And  his  friends?  Watch  them;  keep  their  houses  under 
guard." 

"  Has  he  friends  ?  We  know  of  none.  The  Duke  of  Aricia 
mentions  the  procurator  at  the  Rota,  Signer  Callisto  Minucci,  as  his 
friend.  If  he  is  his  friend  he  will  betray  nothing ;  and  ought  we  to 
seize  upon  and  subject  to  the  rack  such  a  respectable  and  esteemed 
person  without  any  definite  suspicions  being  advanced  against 
him  ? " 

"  I  might  be  able  to  mention  to  you  a  friend  of  the  young  German, 
Padre  Inquisitore,"  here  put  in  Monsignore  Inghirami,  arising  and 
coming  forward. 

"See,  see,"  the  Pope  turned  to  the  latter  in  a  jesting  and  banter- 
ing tone.  "  Monsignore  Phadra !  Why,  Fra  Geronimo,  did  you 
not  ask  him  sooner  ?  Such  a  learned  man  as  he  knows  everything. 
He  knows  from  his  books  what  is  taking  place  on  the  moon  and  on 
the  earth." 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  267 

"And  Your  Holiness  knows  what  is  taking  place  in  heaven," 
said  Monsignore  Phadra,  smiling,  "  so  the  world  has  need  to  turn  to 
only  us  two.  But  this  time  you  would  do  me  too  much  honor  if  you 
understand  that  I  have  obtained  this  out  of  the  books  intrusted  to 
my  care.  The  best  things  we  learn  are  not  in  the  books  of  Your 
Holiness." 

"Do  I  so  often  express  a  desire  for  your  books  that  you  must 
force  this  wisdom  upon  me  ?  Say  what  you  know  !  " 

"  I  was  with  a  young  German  monk  of  Padre  Anselmo's  order  at 
Master  Raphael  Santi's  ;  there  the  German  monk  received  a  message 
from  the  escaped  Count  Egino,  who  ordered  the  monk  to  come  to 
himself  on  the  Aventine.  Also,  this  German  monk  is  a  friend,  a 
confidant,  of  the  escaped  German  Count." 

"In  truth,"  remarked  Padre  Geronimo,  "you  remind  me  of  it; 
Livio  Savelli  also  recently  spoke  of  this  German  monk,  saying  the 
escaped  man  wished  to  conduct  him  to  the  Countess  Corradina. 
And  did  the  message  of  Count  Egino  fall  upon  him  at  the  house  of 
Master  Raphael  Santi  ?  Did  it  reach  him  there  ? " 

"  I  myself  showed  him  the  way  to  the  house  of  Santi,  with  whom 
he  had  before  become  acquainted,"  responded  Tommaso  Inghirami. 
"Why  are  you  surprised  at  that  ?  " 

"Strange,"  replied  Padre  Geronimo,  "very  strange;  for  at  Master 
Raphael  Santi's  bidding  in  the  days  just  past,  they  have  been  working 
in  the  rock-vaults  under  our  cloister-buildings ;  and  only  thus  was  it 
made  possible  to  escape  from  the  dungeon-cells  under  our  convent. 
If  there  had  not  been  an  opening  just  the  day  before  through  the 
excavations  to  pass  through  the  old  vaults  and  hitherto  obstructed 
passages  into  the  open  air " 

"What  would  you  say,  Padre  Geronimo?"  cried  the  Pope,  stand- 
ing before  him,  and  evidently  likewise  surprised.  "Would  you  insin- 
uate that  my  incomparable  Master  Santi  is  in  a  complot  to  release  a 
guilty  person  from  the  hands  of  Sant  Uffizio,  and  to  strangle  Livio 
Savelli !  Take  care  !  Do  not  touch  the  man  !  " 

The  Pope  had  exclaimed  this  loudly  and  angrily.  Turning  from 
the  Inquisitor,  he  murmured  to  himself:  — 

"  Accursed  monk  !  Is  he  right  ?  Certainly  ;  it  is  so  !  This  auda- 
cious man  !  To  steal  .from  the  Dominicans  their  prisoner !  Acci- 
dente  !  " 

Julius  II.  stepped  meditatively  to  the  mosaic  table  in  the  window- 
niche,  emptied  the  half-filled  glass,  and  muttered  further  to  himself  : 


268  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  And  a  German  monk  should  know  about  it !  They  will  seize 
him,  rack,  and  torment  him,  till  he  confesses  everything.  Poor 
Master  Santi !  We  will  protect  you  !  By  Bacchus  !  we  will.  They 
shall  not  lay  hold  upon  you  ! 

"  Let  the  monk  be  brought  to  me.  Procure  for  me  the  German 
monk  on  the  spot ;  I  wish  to  speak  with  him  instantly ! "  then  sud- 
denly exclaimed  the  Pope  aloud,  turning  around.  "  You  know  of  him, 
Phadra ;  give  the  order  that  some  one  fetch  him  !  " 


POPE    JULIUS    II.       (RAPHAEL.) 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ALFONSO   VON   FERRARA. 

1'ONSIGNORE  went  out  in  haste  to  have  Brother  Martin 
produced. 

When  the  Bishop  of  Ragusa  came  back,  there  stepped 
near  him  through  the  lifted  door-curtain  at  the  same  time 
a  servant,  who  said  :  — 

"  Your  Holiness  has  arranged  for  this  hour  the  audience  of  the 
Duke  of  Ferrara.  His  Excellency  waits  in  the  ante-chamber." 

"  Ferrara,  Ferrara  ! "  murmured  the  Pope,  and  stroked  himself 
several  times  upon  his  beard,  as  if  losing  himself  in  thought.  Then 
throwing  up  his  head,  he  nodded,  and  with  the  words,  "  Then  lead 
him  in  to  us,"  he  went  to  seat  himself  upon  his  chair,  while  those 
present,  who  were  sitting  on  the  divan,  arose  to  their  feet. 

The  servant  went  back ;  immediately  thereupon  the  door-curtains 
were  pulled  back  by  two  guards.  One  saw  beyond  these,  still  in  the 
ante-chamber,  a  man  richly  clad  in  white-spotted  gold  brocade,  hand- 
ing over  to  the  servant  his  dagger  and  his  gloves ;  a  prelate,  the 
major-domo  of  the  papal  residence,  then  stepped  forward  and  walked 
in  with  the  Duke  of  Ferrara.  In  the  centre  of  the  chamber,  near 
Padre  Geronimo,  the  major-domo  remained  standing;  the  Duke 
Alfonso  von  Este,  a  man  of  medium  size,  with  a  mobile,  bright  face, 
dark-hued  skin,  and  a  sharp  glance  from  the  black  eyes,  stepped  with 
firm  and  measured  tread  to  the  front  of  the  Pope's  platform,  let 
himself  down  on  both  knees  and  kissed  the  foot,  then  the  ring  upon 
the  hand  of  the  Holy  Father. 

"I  bid  you  welcome,  Duke,"  said  the  Pope,  "since  you  humble 
yourself  before  us,  and  come  to  sue  for  peace.  To  grant  peace  is 
our  office." 

"I  thank  you,  Holy  Father,"  replied  the  duke,  with  a  soft  and 
pleasing  voice,  "for  these  words,  which  it  makes  me  happy  to  hear 
from  your  lips.  Your  commander,  Fabricio  Colonna,  who  through 

269 


270  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

his  intercession  won  your  pardon  for  me,  has  informed  me  how 
graciously  you  require  nothing  of  me  except  here  in  your  court  to  ex- 
press my  penitence  for  having  carried  on  war  against  you, —  against 
you,  the  Holy  Father  of  Christendom,  and  lord  paramount  of  the 
Dukedom  of  Ferrara,  as  which  I  am  here  now  to  acknowledge  you, — 
loudly  and  openly  acknowledge  you.  I  repent  not  alone  having 
fought  on  the  side  of  the  King  of  France  against  you,  but  I  also 
recognize  the  ban  of  the  church  hanging  over  me,  as  I  deserve  from 
my  conduct,  and  beg  you  humbly  that  you  now,  moreover,  remove 
that  from  me." 

"Arise,  arise,  my  son !  "  replied  the  Pope,  taking  the  duke  by  the 
shoulder  to  lift  him  up. 

Duke  Alfonso  stood  up,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  threw  back 
his  bearded  head  with  the  short,  curling  hair,  showed  that  he, 
perhaps  the  most  powerful,  and,  at  any  rate,  the  best  Italian  prince 
of  his  time,  had  lost  nothing  of  his  self-respect  by  an  act  of  submis- 
sion, which,  in  the  eyes  of  his  contemporaries,  was  considered  as 
little  disgraceful  as  kneeling  before  an  altar.  Had  not,  before  this, 
Count  Raimund  von  Toulouse  allowed  himself  to  be  bloodily 
scourged  to  become  released  from  ban  ?  At  a  later  time  did  not 
Henry  IV.  of  France  make  peace  with  the  Pope  under  much  more 
ignominious  conditions  than  those  required  of  the  duke  ?  Did  not 
the  representatives  of  the  king  throw  themselves  down  before  the 
throne  of  the  Pope  erected  on  the  square  in  front  of  St.  Peters  ?  and 
were  they  not  obliged  to  receive  absolution  with  a  stroke  of  the  rod  ? 

Alfonso  arose,  and  the  Pope  added  :  — 

"We  shall,  I  hope,  be  good  friends  from  now  on,  Duke  Alfonso; 
so  good  that  I  shall  have  the  great  pleasure  of  keeping  you  here  in 
this  noble  city  of  Rome,  in  which  I  have  collected  the  greatest 
masters  in  every  art.  For  you  will  not  dispute  that  my  fine  Raphael 
Santi  is  the  first  of  painters  ;  my  rude  Buonarroti  the  first  of  sculp- 
tors ;  and  my  ardent  Bramante  the  first  of  architects.  You,  how- 
ever, I  am  told,  Duke,  would  be  the  first  master  who  fell  upon  the 
art  of  moulding  artillery;  and  such  a  man  this  our  Holy  Chair  may 
well  use  in  such  wicked  times,  when  it  must  defend  with  cannon  its 
own  right  and  that  of  Italy." 

"  Holy  Father,  you  have  already,  without  my  artillery,  done  such 
brave  wonders  in  this  defense ;  you  have  contested  so  victoriously 
every  foreign  mastery  of  our  beautiful  peninsula,  and  founded  for 
yourself  a  kingdom  so  powerful " 


LUTHER    IN    ROME.  271 

"  For  myself?"  said  the  Pope,  vehemently  interrupting  him.  "Do 
not  say  for  myself ;  do  not  say  it,  Duke  !  My  predecessors  have 
fought  for  themselves, —  that  is,  for  their  house,  for  their  nephews.  I 
have  no  house,  I  have  no  nephews.  My  glory  is  that  I  have  strug- 
gled for  the  sake  of  the  church.  Let  it  be  said  to  you  that  you  may 
thereby  comprehend  what  you  have  done  when  you  directed  your 
accursed  artillery  against  my  cities  and  rny  people  in  arms ;  they 
were  battering-rams  brought  out  against  the  walls  of  the  church, 
against  the  house  of  Christ.  And  will  you  make  it  good  by  conse- 
crating to  the  church  your  art  ?  You  are  so  great  a  master  in  every 
smith's-craft ;  you  understand  how  to  harden  steel,  also  to  build 
fortresses,  and,  besides,  to  arrange  gay  feasts  of  every  kind,  to  erect 
stages  and  theatres, —  the  world  tells  of  the  wonders  of  Ferrara. 
Would  not  Rome  be  a  better  place  for  such  arts  ?  And  then  you 
would  bring  to  me,  also,  with  your  suite  that  merry  knight,  Messer 
Ludovico  Ariosto,  and  our  court  would  possess  in  him,  also,  the  man 
whom  they  extol  as  the  first  of  Italian  poets." 

While  the  Pope  thus  spoke,  sharply  bringing  forward  the  words  in 
his  way,  the  duke  fixed  upon  him  a  questioning  glance ;  he  evidently 
perceived  something  in  these  words  which  caused  him  surprise. 
Would  Julius  II.  only  provoke  him  ?  Was  it  a  merry  jest,  which, 
from  the  severe  countenance  and  the  harsh  tone  of  the  Pope,  only 
sounded  a  little  pungent  ?  Or  had  the  latter  the  intention  to  indi- 
cate that  he,  the  duke,  had  been  reduced  to  so  dependent  a  vassalage 
of  the  Holy  Chair,  that  such  proposals  were  allowed  to  be  made  to 
him  ? 

However  that  was,  Duke  Alfonso  had  not  come,  had  not  been 
ordered  to  the  presence  of,  the  Pope  to  contend  with  him  over  that 
matter,  and  so  he  restricted  himself  to  answering  quietly :  — 

"  Holy  Father,  Messer  Ludovico  is,  in  truth,  a  faithful  servant  of 
my  house  ;  but  to  follow  me  to  Rome,  I  would  find  it  quite  difficult  to 
induce  him.  Your  Holiness  remembers  I  at  first  sent  just  him  to 
effect  for  me  a  peace  with  you.  Your  Holiness,  also,  full  of  gracious- 
ness,  granted  to  him  an  audience,  and,  as  was  fit,  he  had  himself  con- 
ducted to  your  palace  and  to  your  presence  ;  yet,  scarcely  had  my 
ambassador,  Messer  Ludovico,  stepped  over  your  apostolic  threshold, 
when  Your  Holiness  wrathfully  cried  out  to  him  that  he  should  in- 
stantly get  out,  if  he  did  not  wish  to  be  thrown  from  the  window.  He 
fell  into  a  great  fright  over  this  ;  he  mounted  his  mule  in  hastening 
flight,  and  rode  without  stopping  till  he  felt  himself  safe  in  Ferrara. 


272  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

Now  he  would  not  again  trust  himself  in  the  neighborhood  of  your 
power,  even  if  you  were  to  promise  him  to  crown  him  upon  the 
Capitol  as  poet !  " 

"These  poets  !  "  laughed  Julius  II.  "Since  Horace  left  his  shield 
in  the  lurch,  they  have  always  remained  the  same  hares  !  " 

The  laughter  of  the  Pope  had  about  it  something  forced  ;  also  an 
expression  came  over  his  countenance  which  showed  to  the  duke 
that  he,  if  he  had  intended  to  humble  himself  before  the  Pope,  had, 
indeed,  drawn  himself  out  of  the  affair.  He  had  insinuated  that  the 
power  of  the  Pope  did  not  extend  over  Ferrara,  and  at  the  same 
time  reminded  the  latter  of  an  outburst  of  brutal  temper,  which 
mention  could  not  have  been  pleasant  to  him. 

The  countenance  of  the  Holy  Father  had,  indeed,  darkened  a 
little,  when  he  now  continued  :  — 

"You  see  I  have  received  you  better!  What  concerns  the  con- 
ditions of  peace,  we  shall,  no  doubt,  quickly  and  easily  agree  upon. 
To  establish  these  conditions  with  you,  we  have  commissioned  six  of 
our  worthy  brethren  out  of  the  number  of  cardinals.  You  may  go, 
now,  Duke  Alfonso ;  settle  with  them.  As  a  sign  of  reconciliation 
and  of  your  absolution,  we  will  give  you  our  apostolic  blessing." 

While  Duke  Alfonso  threw  himself  down  upon  his  knees,  and 
again  kissed  the  ring  upon  the  left  hand  of  the  Pope,  the  latter  made 
with  the  right  hand  a  sign  over  his  head.  Then  the  duke  arose,  and, 
with  quick,  firm  step,  inwardly  rejoiced  and  relieved,  at  the  side  of 
the  major-domo  he  left  the  chamber. 

Julius  II.  arose  from  his  chair,  stepped  down  from  the  platform, 
and  began  again  to  walk  up  and  down,  as  before. 

"Padre  Geronimo,"  he  said,  after  a  pause,  "you  are,  in  truth,  a 
saint,  as  we  know  ;  but  you  are  still,  on  that  account,  no  statue  of  a 
saint  !  How  can  you  stand  so  long  ?  Do  as  Phadra  there,  who  is 
no  saint  at  all,  and  seat  yourself.  What  do  you  say  to  this  Duke  of 
Ferrara  and  his  bearing  ?  A  proud  man  that !  If  I  were  a  theo- 
logian, as  you  are,  I  would  quote  against  him  a  verse  from  the  Old 
Testament  —  alas  !  I  no  longer  know  how  it  sounds  or  where  it  is. 
Monsignore  Phadra,  do  you  know  it  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  Your  Holiness  is  thinking  of  the  verse  in  the  first  book 
of  Kings  :  '  You  are  high  in  your  defiance,  but  before  the  Lord  will 
his  adversaries  become  frightened,  and  over  them  will  he  thunder  in 
heaven ! ' 

"You  see  this  Phadra  knows  everything.     Perhaps  you  also  know, 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  273 

Phadra,  how  long  this  monk  whom  we  have  ordered  to  us  will  still 
let  us  wait." 

"  In  any  case  longer,  Holy  Father,  than  is  good  for  the  poor  monk, 
if  he  should  find  you  in  other  than  a  gracious  temper.  Think 
graciously  that  he  is  one  of  those  slow  Germans,  and  that  the  road 
to  his  cloister  and  back  here  is  long  !  " 

The  Pope  turned  back  to  his  seat,  and  dropping  down,  he  said  :  — 

"  Pity  he  cannot  make  the  distance  with  your  tongue,  Monsignore 
<3i  Ragusa,  which  is  quicker  ;  in  the  meantime  we  will  abbreviate 
the  moments  by  corroborating  these  briefs." 

Julius  II.  took  a  great  reed  pen,  and  unrolled  the  first  of  the 
parchments  lying  before  him  on  the  table.  After  reading  it  he 
muttered  some  unintelligible  words,  and  signed  it  deliberately  with 
great  characters.  Then  he  took  a  second  ;  in  the  midst  of  reading 
it,  he  interrupted  himself,  and  said,  looking  up  :  — 

"Monsignore  Phadra,  through  whom  do  you  have  your  bishopric 
of  Ragusa  managed  ?  " 

"Through  a  Franciscan,  Holy  Father." 

"And  you,  there,  Monsignore  di  Sienna,"  —  he  turned  to  one  of  the 
other  gentlemen  in  the  robes  of  a  prelate,  near  whom  Padre 
Geronimo  had  now  taken  place, — "who  manages  your  church  while 
you  draw  up  at  the  court  these  writs  which  you  compel  me  to  sign  ?" 

"  Holy  Father,"  anwered  the  Bishop  of  Sienna,  "  it  is  a  brother  of 
the  Holy  Mount  Carmel  to  whom  I  have  intrusted  it." 

"  And  here,"  continued  the  Pope,  signing  the  parchment,  "  I 
assign  now  the  power  of  managing  the  archbishopric  of  Sevilla  to  a 
Capuchin.  What  true  shepherds  of  your  flocks  you  are ;  every- 
where you  give  them  over  to  the  mendicant  monks !  Truly,  they  do 
it  for  the  lowest  wages  ;  and  they  are  better  guards  of  the  faith  at 
their  posts  than  you  would  be,  Phadra,  for  you  are  a  pagan, 
but  they  will  yet  become  the  whole  church  —  the  whole  church 
a  mendicant  order !  " 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FAITH  AND  WORKS. 

3K  o  1 1  o  :  ©ieb  bit  mir  $nttt>ort  auf  bic  £eben$frage, 
Ob  bie  ttor  ©ott  geringre  ©nabe  finben, 
S)te  bemutb,s»oU  ftci)  nafyn  mit  itjren  ©iinben, 
3118  bie  mit  @tolj  auf  ba$,  roa§  fie  gettjan, 
3m  Ueberflujj  ber  guten  SBerfe  italjn? 

—  M.  ANGELO  to  V.  COLONNA. 

|ULIUS  II.  was  interrupted  by  the  valet's  entering. 

"The  Augustine  brother  after  whom  you  asked,  Holy 
Father,"  he  announced. 

The  Pope  nodded  his  head  ;  the  servant  went  back,  and 
immediately  thereupon  the  door-curtain  again  arose  to  admit 
Brother  Martin. 

Brother  Martin's  face  bore  all  the  marks  of  heat  and  of  excite- 
ment. He  had  been  compelled  to  make  the  whole  distance  at  a 
headlong  pace ;  to  mount  thus  the  steep  entrance  to  the  Vatican, 
the  innumerable  steps  of  the  stair  —  that  even  would  have  taken  away 
his  breath  if  there  had  not  been  added  to  it  the  excitement  of  the 
moment  wherein  he,  the  poor  German  monk,  was  led  before  the  vice- 
gerent of  Christ  upon  the  earth.  He  grew  dizzy ;  everything  whirled 
before  his  eyes,  so  that  the  objects  around  him  were  confused  and 
swimming.  ,  The  exalted,  white-clad  old  man,  who  was  throned  upon 
an  elevation  at  the  end  of  the  great  room,  swayed  before  him  almost 
like  a  vision  of  dreams.  If  the  usher  had  not,  at  the  entrance,  re- 
peated to  him  that,  so  soon  as  he  had  crossed  the  threshold,  he  must 
kneel  down,  he  would  have  remained  standing  at  the  door  like  a  pillar 
of  salt. 

However,  he  humbly  observed  the  custom. 

Julius  II.  threw  upon  him  a  hasty  glance;  then  he  said  to  the 
Bishop  of  Ragusa  :  — 

"  You  know  him  ;  conduct  him  hither  !  " 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  275 

Tommaso  Inghirami  approached  Brother  Martin,  and  touching 
him  on  the  shoulder,  he  said:  — 

"Come;  the  Holy  Father  graciously  grants  to  you  that  you  may 
kiss  his  foot." 

Martin  arose ;  he  went  through  the  chamber  at  Inghirami's  side ; 
he  knelt  again  on  the  platform  to  touch  with  his  lips  the  gold-em- 
broidered cross  on  the  white  shoe  of  the  Pope  ;  and  then  he  stepped 
back,  in  order,  breathing  deeply  several  times  and  composing  him- 
self, to  direct  his  glance  freely  upon  the  countenance  of  the  Pope. 

The  Pope  looked  searchingly  upon  these  features  now  directing 
themselves  so  openly  and  freely  toward  him ;  they  appeared  to  strike 
him.  Passing  the  hand  over  the  middle  of  his  face,  he  said  :  — 

"To  the  mouth,  you  appear  like  a  jolly  brother  and  a  clever 
fellow ;  and  below  that  like  an  exorcist,  before  whom  the  devils 
tremble.  Have  you  ever  cast  them  out  ?  " 

The  Pope  had  said  this  to  him  in  the  Italian  speech.  Brother 
Martin  had,  by  degrees,  become  so  versed  in  it  that  he  could  answer 
in  the  same  tongue  :  — 

"  No,  Most  Holy  Father, —  at  least  not  out  of  other  men's  souls  ; 
at  the  most,  only  out  of  myself ! " 

"  Out  of  yourself  ?  And  what  devils  have  hidden  themselves  in 
you,  that  you  must  drive  them  out  ? "  asked  the  Pope,  with  a  tone 
of  ridicule. 

"  The  greatest  one  that  has  taken  possession  of  me  is  the  devil  of 
despondency,  of  hopelessness." 

"  How  can  one  who  has  faith  despair  ?  " 

"The  faith  itself  made  me  despair." 

"The  faith?"  threw  in  the  Pope,  distractedly,  and  evidently 
more  occupied  with  the  personality  of  the  monk  than  with  his 
words.  "  That  sounds  strange.  How  did  the  faith  make  you 
despair  ?  It  must  be,  then,  that  you  have  despaired  of  the  faith." 

"  And  that  is  even  so,  most  Holy  Father ;  and  if  you  wish  to  hear 
my  confession  of  sins,  I  have  fully  despaired  of  the  faith,  and  on 
that  account  have  suffered  much  pain  !  How  can  I,  I  asked  my- 
self, do  enough  to  deserve  pardon  and  to  be  justified  ?  How  can  I, 
weak  one,  find  the  strength  to  do  the  works  which  procure  for  me 
salvation  ?  How  can  I  save  myself  before  the  angry  justice  of  God  ? 
And  the  anxiety  of  heart  overpowered  me  ;  the  fear  of  God  came  over 
me  with  a  force  which  destroyed  my  consciousness  and  deprived  me 
of  breath." 


276  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

Pope  Julius  II.  listened  to  him  attentively ;  what  the  German 
there  indicated  to  him  in  such  few  words,  moved  him,  perhaps,  as 
something  wonderful,  strange. 

"And  this  fear  of  God,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head,  "was  a  devil  — 
a  devil  which  you  had  to  drive  out  ?  '  The  fear  of  God  is  the  begin- 
ning of  wisdom  ;'  now,  shall  the  beginning  of  wisdom  be  the  Devil  ?  " 

"  Why  not,  Holy  Father  ?  The  Devil  can  have  the  beginning  of 
wisdom,  but  not  the  middle  and  the  end.  The  middle  of  wisdom  is 
love,  and  the  end  is  peace." 

Julius  II.  again  shook  his  head. 

"  Fra  Anselmo,"  he  cried  to  his  Father  Confessor,  "  listen  only 
to  your  order-brother.  Have  you  more  of  such  metaphysicians 
among  you  ?  " 

"  Not  so  many,  Most  Holy  Father,"  answered  Fra  Anselmo, 
rising,  "  that  it  will  not  repay  the  trouble  to  listen  to  him." 

The  Pope  nodded. 

"  He  may  speak  further.  He  may  tell  wherewith  he  exorcised  his 
devil,  and  thereby  succeeded  in  getting  rid  of  the  fear  of  God,  like  a 
heretic." 

"  I  have  not  rid  myself  of  the  fear  of  God,"  replied  Brother 
Martin,  "  but  out  of  the  fear  of  God  the  Devil  twisted  for  me  a  rope 
which  he  placed  around  my  neck,  so  that  I  was  even  at  the  point  of 
death,  and  I  have  torn  this  Devil's  halter  away  from  me.  Believe 
me,  Holy  Father,  it  was  a  hard,  hard  struggle !  I  had  the  book 
of  the  Holy  Scriptures  in  my  cell,  and  out  of  it  I  drank  full  draughts 
of  the  water  of  life  and  of  eternal  salvation.  But  immeasurable 
anxiety  and  inexpressible  pain  of  soul  streamed  in  upon  me  with 
this  living  water,  as  a  flood  in  which  I  believed  myself  swallowed  up. 
For  many  weeks  no  sleep  settled  down  upon  my  eyelids ;  the 
fever  threw  me  upon  a  sick-bed ;  the  thought  of  my  sinfulness 
preyed  upon  my  physical  strength, — the  thought  that,  as  I  could 
not  fill  the  broad,  boundless  ocean,  I,  through  my  works,  could 
not  win  the  boundless  eternity  of  salvation — nevermore;  that  I 
could  not  turn  upon  me  the  favor  of  God,  even  though  my  weak 
human  strength  should  be  increased  a  thousand-fold  for  doing  what 
the  church  prescribes  for  obtaining  justification.  Out  of  this 
situation  I  have  forced  myself  to  a  knowledge  that  all  this  doing  is  a 
subordinate,  an  incidental  thing ;  that  we  have  only  to  immerse 
our  whole  soul  into  the  faith,  in  order  to  feel  streaming  out  of  it  into 
us  the  blessed,  peace-giving  rest  of  the  soul.  For  faith  awakens 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  277 

love ;  and  because  our  love  sues  for  the  love  of  God,  we  are 
allowed  to  throw  ourselves  with  a  quiet  spirit  into  the  arms  of  God, 
who  will,  no  doubt,  grant  to  us  salvation.  The  heart  filled  with  fear 
and  anxiety  cannot  love  ;  only  the  calm  heart  can  do  that.  And 
because  I  found  this  out,  and  thereby  became  of  a  joyous  spirit, 
I  said,  Most  Holy  Father,  I  have  cast  out  the  Devil  from  me." 

Luther's  eyes  flashed  while  he  spoke.  His  countenance  was  agi- 
tated more  like  that  of  a  man  who  declares  his  passion  to  a  woman  : 
more  like  that  of  a  child  who  pours  out  to  his  mother  the  out- 
gushings  of  his  enthusiastic  heart.  He  was  carried  away  with  the 
thought  that  he  was  speaking  to  God's  deputy  upon  earth,  to  the 
father  of  all  the  faithful ;  he  could  not  do  otherwise  before  him  than 
to  throw  the  door  of  his  heart  wide,  wide  open.  While  he  was 
speaking  it  came  into  his  thoughts  that  now,  directly  from  the  lips  of 
this  apostolic  veteran,  who  was,  indeed,  a  living  bit  of  revelation,  the 
Holy  Spirit  must  breathe  upon  him  and  pour  itself  into  his  open 
heart ;  for,  in  spite  of  all  the  sores  and  wounds  of  the  church,  there 
was,  for  him  and  for  millions  of  others,  the  Head  of  the  Church, 
standing  high  above  its  degeneracy,  still  the  true  and  infallible 
expression  of  its  original  principle  ;  it  had  remained  so,  in  spite  of 
all  that  happened. 

Pope  Julius  II.,  however,  shook  his  head,  murmuring  some  unin- 
telligible words. 

In  fact,  he  would  have  answered,  had  not  Padre  Geronimo,  An- 
selmo,  Phadra,  and  the  others  been  present ;  they  were  such  sharp 
theologians  !  Julius  II.  feared  theologians,  because  he  felt  himself 
weak  in  their  science ;  and  he  preferred,  in  their  presence,  not  to 
venture  upon  the  smooth  ice,  —  to  express  no  further  opinion  than 
to  throw  in,  dryly,  the  questions  :  — 

"  And  how  have  you  arrived  at  this  beautiful  knowledge  that 
works  are  of  no  use,  whereby  you  should  hang  your  gown  upon  a 
nail  ?  whereby  the  sacraments  would  cease  to  be  sacraments  with 
fasts  and  castigations  ?  whereby  you  should  throw  into  the  fire  your 
pilgrim-staff,  by  which  you  made  your  pilgrimage  to  this  holy  city, 
Rome  ?  and  whereby,  in  the  end,  you  can  become  a  heathen,  —  for 
even  the  heathen  can  believe  in  their  gods  and  love  them  ? " 

Over  Brother  Martin's  features  glided  an  expression  as  of  severe 
disappointment. 

With  surprise,  and  a  little  less  loudly,  he  answered  :  — 

"  Holy  Father,  become  a  heathen  ?     I  have,  indeed,  spoken  of  the 


278  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

Christian  faith,  because  I  recognize  how  gloriously  Christianity  out- 
shines all  other  religions.  With  faith  and  love,  the  man  baptized  into 
Christ  finds  the  only  mediator ;  for,  of  all  religions,  Christianity 
alone  has  a  mediator.  In  all  of  them  there  is  no  one  who  lifts  up 
man  again  when  he  is  fallen ;  to  whose  breast,  to  whose  love,  the 
sinner  can  flee  when  he  will  atone  for  an  offense  ;  at  whose  feet  he 
can  lay  down  all  his  human  misery.  For  the  Mediator  was  a  man, 
as  we  are ;  he  knows  human  nature  in  all  its  depths,  also  the  im- 
pulse of  the  polluted  soul  to  the  new  birth.  How  could  a  man 
thirsting  for  religion,  be  untrue  to  the  faith  which  satisfies  the  heart 
and  the  thoughts  before  all  others,  to  become  a  heathen  ? " 

"  It  may  be,  may  be,"  interjected  the  Pope,  impatiently  ;  "  still,  you 
are  a  fanatic.  You  think  too  much,  you  Germans  !  What  need  has 
a  mendicant  monk  of  thinking  ?  Read  your  masses,  sing  your  Psalter 
off,  and  then  lay  yourselves  upon  the  ear  on  your  straw  sacks. 
Through  your  thinking  you  come  to  heresy.  Isn't  that  true,  Padre 
Geronimo  ?  Let  the  church  think  for  you,  as  the  church  lets  us,  her 
only  Supreme  Head,  think  for  her.  And  even  we  do  not  think ;  for 
if  we  were  to  rack  our  brains  with  thinking,  we  would  at  last  know 
no  more  whether  what  we  have  thought  out  is  our  finite  wisdom,  or 
the  infallible  suggestion  of  the  Holy  Spirit." 

"But  the  brain  of  man  cannot  stand  still,  Holy  Father." 

"  Why  not  ?  Is  not  the  Holy  Spirit  brains  enough  for  mankind  ? 
Do  your  hard  German  noddles  need  more  ?  Will  you  speak  against 
it  ?  Will  you  raise  yourselves  against  the  works  laid  upon  you  by 
the  church  ?  Only  look  at  this  brother !  Throw  the  stupid  monk 
out  for  me,  Phadra  !  " 

Pope  Julius  II.  began  to  speak  in  anger,  which  was  so  easily 
enkindled  in  him.  Fortunately  he  was  appeased  by  Phadra's  re- 
marking :  — 

"Your  Holiness  wished  to  examine  him  on  account  of  his  con- 
nection with  the  German  Count " 

"Did  I?  Well,  he  will  not  know  much  about  it.  Had  the  Ger- 
man had  need  of  a  monk  for  his  flight  and  for  the  abduction  of  Luca 
Savelli's  widow,  he  would  not  have  taken  this  simple  fanatic.  You 
question  him,  Padre  Geronimo." 

Padre  Geronimo  turned  to  Brother  Martin,  and  said  :  — 

"  You  know  the  Count  Egino  von  Ortenburg  ?" 

"  Yes,"    replied   Brother   Martin,   looking  absent-mindedly  at  the 


LUTHER    IN    ROME.  279 

Dominican,  and  wiping  away  the  cold  perspiration  which  his  inner 
excitement  now  drove  out  upon  his  brow. 

"  He  wrote  to  you  that  you  should  come  to  him  in  our  cloister  at 
Santa  Sabina.  What  for  ?  " 

"  Because  he  had  become  acquainted  with  a  noble  lady,  to  whom  he 
would  lead  me." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?  " 

"I  know  not." 

"  Do  you  know  that  he  has  fled,  after  having  killed  Count  Livio 
Savelli  ? " 

"I  heard  that  Count  Livio  Savelli  had  been  killed.  I  do  not 
believe  that  Count  Egino  has  killed  him,  unless  it  has  been  in 
righteous  self-defense,  and  from  compulsion.  If  he  has  escaped  I 
wish  him  good  luck  in  it ;  for  I  wish  to  him,  as  an  honorable  young 
German  prince,  every  good." 

"  How  did  you  become  acquainted  with  Raphael  Santi  ?  " 

"  The  Bishop  of  Ragusa,  there,  had  the  good  will  to  me  to  take  me 
to  the  celebrated  master." 

"  Have  you  seen  him  since  then  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Whither  do  you  suppose  Count  Egino  has  fled  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  and  suppose  nothing  about  it." 

"  You  stand  in  the  presence  of  our  Most  Holy  Father  ;  in  his 
name  I  require  of  you  to  speak  the  truth  ;  I  require  it  of  you  by 
your  vow  and  your  obedience  to  the  church.  What  do  you  know  of 
the  occurrences  of  the  past  night  in  the  Savelli  Castle?" 

"Nothing,"  replied  Brother  Martin,  calmly. 

"  Do  you  believe  that  Master  Raphael  Santi  knows  of  them  ?  " 

"  /  cannot  believe  without  grounds  of  belief.  The  foundation  of 
faith  is  testimony,  unassailable  testimony,  which,  subjected  to  investiga- 
tion by  my  reason 

"  Isn't  this  monk  beginning  his  homily  again  ?  "  here  angrily  put 
in  Pope  Julius  II.  "Throw  him  out,  I  tell  you  ;  he  is  a  blockhead, 
you  see,  and  knows  nothing.  Let  him  run,  Padre  Geronimo  ;  let  him 
run.  I  will  that  they  let  him  run,  and  that  they  no  more  mention 
Raphael  Santi  in  this  affair,  nor  disturb  him  ;  do  you  hear  ?  I  will 
it!" 

Brother  Martin,  who  was  gazing  upon  the  reddening  countenance 
of  the  Pope,  felt  himself  seized  by  the  shoulder.  It  was  Monsignore 
Phadra  and  Padre  Anselmo,  who  had  hastened  forward  to  take  him 


286  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

away,  as  they  knew  how  dangerous  it  was  if  such  an  order  of  the 
Holy  Father  did  not  receive  immediate  execution. 

And  so,  before  he  was  aware,  before  he  had  come  to  his  senses, 
he  stood  outside  in  the  great  ante-chamber.  He  walked  slowly, 
seeking  his  way  alone  through  the  valets,  and  porters,  and  Swiss 
guards ;  through  great  rooms  ;  down  many,  many  steps  ;  over  St. 
Peter's  Square,  with  its  chaos  of  building  materials  ;  through  the 
Borgo  ;  finally  homeward,  to  his  cloister. 

How  much  poorer  a  man  he  was  than  when  he  had  come  this  way 
in  such  haste,  with  heart  beating  so  high  ! 

He  was  affected  as  is  a  child  that  sees  his  highest  upon  earth, 
his  father  and  mother,  committing  a  sin,  for  whom,  then,  the  illum- 
inating star  of  his  trust  sinks  into  the  dirt. 

He  had  in  Italy  and  Rome  seen  the  church  in  its  most  unrestrained 
worldliness.  He  had  been  stirred  up  by  the  moral  degeneracy  of 
those  who  called  themselves  priests,  by  the  entire  shipwreck  of  re- 
ligious feeling  in  most  of  them,  by  their  blasphemies  and  their  vice. 
But  as  the  poor  wanderer  who  has  fallen  into  cold  and  night,  doubts 
not  in  his  heart  of  the  existence  of  the  sun,  so  the  poor  German 
cloister-brother  entertained  in  his  deepest  heart  his  trust  in  the  in- 
destructible power  of  the  principle  ;  and  in  the  sunlit  splendor  of 
this  principle,  the  Head  of  the  Church,  although  imprisoned  in  bonds 
of  mortality,  had  yet  always  stood  for  him  as  the  highest  guardian  of 
the  truth,  as  the  last  sustainer  of  his  silent  hopes. 

And  now  these  hopes  had  taken  their  flight. 

This  Pope  was  a  phenomenon  as  worldly,  as  earthly,  as  without 
love,  as  unconcerned  about  the  truth,  as  the  hundreds  of  others  that 
he  saw. 

To  this  man,  who  must  be  the  gentle  shepherd  of  his  flock,  the 
father  of  the  faithful,  also  his  own  father,  Brother  Martin,  in  the  full, 
warm  impulse  of  his  heart,  had  at  once,  unreservedly  as  a  child, 
spoken  out,  as  well  as  possible  in  the  few  words  granted  to  him,  that 
which  filled  his  innermost  soul. 

What  had  moved,  and  tormented,  and  agitated  him  in  many  sad 
hours  for  months  and  years  ;  what  had  been  the  object  there  at 
home  of  so  many  profound  discussions  with  pious  and  learned 
friends,  with  his  noble  and  mildly  paternal  Johann  von  Stanpitz ; 
the  whole  inner  life  of  his  mind,  the  sickening  of  his  spirit  and  its 
recovery;  the  darkness  of  his  soul  and  the  light ;  and  the  thought 
out  of  which,  as  from  the  moving  star  of  the  Wise  Men,  this  light 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  281 

had  fallen  upon  him,  —  all  this  he  had  told  in  quickly  winged  words 
to  his  spiritual  father. 

The  Pope  had  not  understood  him.  The  spiritual  father  had  had 
no  ear  for  the  speech  of  his  child. 

And,  still,  he  had  understood  him.  The  Pope  was,  like  all  the 
rest  —  a  shrewd  man. 

He  had  perceived  on  the  spot  that  Luther's  thought,  like  an  atlas, 
took  upon  itself  the  centre  of  gravity  of  Christianity,  removed  it 
from  the  place  assigned  it  by  the  church,  and  cast  it  into  a  region 
whither  only  German  minds  could  follow  it  —  into  the  region  of 
the  inner  being  ;  into  a  region  where  good  works  could  no  more  be 
offered  for  gold,  as  if  they  were  wares  representing  economic 
values  ! 

Brother  Martin  slowly  wended  his  way  home.  He  was  not  shaken 
in  his  conviction,  but  he  was  sad,  just  as  he  had  been  there  at  home 
in  the  quiet  cloister-cell  in  Wittenberg.  Never  did  he  feel  more 
deeply  the  sentence  he  has  uttered,  "The  human  heart  is  a  defiant 
and  despairing  thing."  His  heart  was  so  dauntless  for  the  truth  it 
had  found,  clinging  to  it  so  inflexibly,  yet  so  despondent  in  the  feel- 
ing of  his  weakness  in  presence  of  the  world  which  will  not  have  the 
truth  ! 

The  consciousness  of  having  a  truth  which  the  world  has  not  and 
will  not  have,  is  for  noble  minds  a  greater  martyrdom  than  is  conse- 
quent upon  struggling  for  truth. 

That  saying  of  Hamlet, 

"  A  rent  goes  through  the  time ;   accursed  the  hour 
Which  gave  me  birth  to  heal  its  wounds," 

contains  for  deeply  feeling  natures,  fanatically  ardent  for  their  truth, 
like  Hamlet,  the  outcry  of  a  fearful  anguish  of  spirit. 

Each  one  is  conscious  of  his  mission,  but  the  still  dumb  prophet 
feels  that  the  great  word  which  he  bears  in  him  yet  unspoken,  more 
mighty  than  himself,  will  force  its  way  over  his  lips  to  make  of  him 
a  Laocoon  ;  that,  so  soon  as  the  word  is  spoken,  the  great,  deep,  and 
filthy  pool  called  life  will  spew  out  against  him  its  serpents  to  en- 
circle and  suffocate  him.  Luther  felt,  with  shuddering  and  stagna- 
ting heart,  the  soft  creeping  of  these  serpents. 

When  he  should  succeed  in  finding  the  world-moving  Word,  which 
should  wake  again  for  humanity  the  lost  and  dead  Christ,  and  which 
should  overthrow  the  idols  that  had  usurped  his  place,  then  there  was. 


282  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

no  power  upon  earth  to  protect  him  in  the  conflict  which  must  rage 
against  him.  This  hour  had  taught  him  that  the  infallible,  supreme 
head  of  Christendom  was  his  enemy,  as  all  others.  He  who  would 
be  victor  there  must  be  stronger  than  Laocoon. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


IN    THE    HOUSE    OF    GIULIETTA. 


MARTIN,     lost     in    thought,    moved    slowly 
through  the  streets  of  Rome. 

What  he  had  learned  up  there  in  the  chamber  of  the 
Pope,  caused  him  now  to  take  a  different  road  from  that 
he  had  intended  before  the  courier  from  the  Vatican  had  ordered 
him  to  the  Holy  Father.  He  did  not  go  to  the  house  of  Callisto, 
but  turned  himself  toward  the  height  of  the  Quirinal,  in  order  to 
talk  with  Irmgard. 

He  would  bring  to  her  at  once  the  information  which  he  had 
obtained  of  Egino's  flight.  He  knew  what  a  message  of  joy  it  would 
be  for  the  young  maiden,  and  he  felt  that  for  himself,  in  his  deep 
despondency,  the  only  comfort,  the  only  balsam  for  his  wounded 
spirit  would  be  found  in  pouring  balm  into  another  bruised  human 
heart.  His  unselfish  disposition  changed  the  sentence,  "  I  suffer 
so  others  may  suffer  also,"  into,  "  I  will  bear  my  sorrow  if  I  can 
only  remove  that  of  others." 

As  he  was  passing  the  entrance  to  the  Colonna  Palace,  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  he  saw  a  crowd  of  people  just  dispersing.  Some  gentle- 
men in  rich  clothing  stood  before  the  door  ;  horses  iri  gay  trappings 
were  being  led  up  and  down  in  the  court  :  it  was  still  a  part  of  the 
retinue  with  which  the  Duke  of  Ferrara  had  ridden  to  the  audience 
with  Julius  II.  ,  and  they  had  just  now  reached  home.  Inside,  in  the 
Colonna  Gardens,  —  Brother  Martin  perceived  this  when  he  was 
mounting  by  the  side  of  the  lofty  wall  surrounding  these  gardens 
along  the  Quirinal,  —  the  duke  must  already  be  celebrating  with  his 
friends  and  entertainers  the  good  result  of  the  audience,  for  they  were 
talking  very  loudly  and  joyously  over  there  on  the  other  side  of  the 
wall. 

As  he  was  passing  by  a  great  iron  door  in  the  wall  leading  out 
of  doors,  he  also,  with  a  cursory  glance,  saw  the  company.  Just  then 


284  LUTHER    IN    ROME. 

they  were  tipping  their  glasses  and  drinking  the  health  of  the  Pope 
and  the  Duke. 

Martin  walked  on  ;  he  reached  the  widow's  house.  There,  where 
the  hedge  left  open  the  entrance  to  the  garden,  stood  a  man  clad  in 
black,  talking  briskly  with  Beppo ;  Beppo  appeared  extraordinarily 
surprised,  and  very  pale.  As  Martin  walked  past  him  in  the  garden 
he  was  just  uttering  some  exclamations:  "Eh!"  and  "Oh!"  and 
"  Accidcntc  !  "  and  Brother  Martin  then  heard  him  cry  out  :  — 

"  Sor  Antonio,  you  can  rely  upon  me  as  if  I  were  a  client  of  the 
noble  house  of  Savelli,  and  as  if  my  father  and  all  my  ancestors  since 
the  days  of  Romulus  had  been.  You  may  rely  upon  me  !  " 

"  I  rely  upon  you  ;  and  since  my  poor  murdered  Lord  Livio's  wife, 
his  poor  widow  now,  is  a  Colonna,  the  clients  of  the  Colonna  must, 
of  course,  stand  by  us." 

"Certainly,  certainly  they  must ;  but  let  me  see  now  whither  this 
brother  will  go." 

"See  to  it,  Beppo,  and  do  not  forget  what  I  said  to  you." 

"No,  Sor  Antonio;  and  I  will  bring  you  news  so  soon  as  any- 
thing the  least  suspicious  occurs." 

Beppo  had  a  peculiarly  quick  and  excitable  nature,  and  on  that  ac- 
count he  left  Sor  Antonio  standing  and  ran  after  Brother  Martin. 

"  Whither  will  you  go  ? "  he  said,  when  he  overtook  the  latter  at 
the  house-door,  which  was  locked  to-day,  and  laid  his  hand  upon  his 
sleeve. 

"To  the  Germans  who  dwell  with  you." 

"For  God's  sake,"  whispered  Beppo,  anxiously,  "speak  low!  To 
the  Germans  ?  What  Germans  ?  Do  you  know  them  ?  You  your- 
self must  be,  according  to  your  speech,  a " 

"  I  am  a  German,  and  a  friend  of  your  tenants." 

"Well,  well,  I  will  believe  it  of  you." 

Beppo  knocked  at  the  door. 

"  I  will  lead  you  to  them,"  he  said,  while  knocking.  "  But  if  you 
are  their  friend,  good  Brother,  do  not  speak  to  any  human  soul " 

Beppo  was  interrupted,  for  the  door  opened,  and  Frau  Giulietta 
stuck  her  head  through. 

"  He  is  a  friend,  a  German,  mother,"  whispered  Beppo  to  her. 

Frau  Giulietta  opened  the  door  entirely,  and  admitted  Brother 
Martin,  whom  she  recognized. 

Beppo  remained  outside. 

The  widow  led  Brother  Martin  through  her  sitting-room,  which 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  285 

the  hearth  pointed  out  as,  at  the  same  time,  the  kitchen,  past  an 
open  door,  through  which  one  could  look  into  a  room  full  of  tools,  — 
implements  of  Beppo's  craft, —  and  opened  the  door  to  the  part  occu- 
pied by  their  tenants.  Stepping  into  the  room,  Brother  Martin  was 
startled  when  his  first  glance  fell  upon  an  old  canopied  bed  in  the 
background,  and  saw  that  Irmgard  rested  upon  it,  and  with  a  motion 
indicating  the  utmost  feebleness  turned  her  head  to  him. 

"Irmgard,"  he  exclaimed,  "what  has  happened  to  you?  Are  you 
sick  ? " 

Uncle  Kraps,  who,  like  a  picture  of  grief,  sunken  into  himself,  was 
seated  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  had  moved  away  at  the  entrance  of  the 
monk.  When  he  heard  the  German  words,  a  wonderful  distortion 
convulsed  his  face.  He  stammered  out  sobbingly  :  — 

"  Some  one  has  stabbed  her ;  some  one  has  stabbed  her  to  death, 
and  I  have  made  him  cold  !  He  has  not  moved  a  limb  any  more  ;  but 
now  I  have  the  sin  upon  me,  the  mortal  sin  upon  me,  the  mortal  sin  !  " 

Brother  Martin  fixed,  with  astonishment,  his  glance  upon  the  re- 
markable form  talking  as  if  in  ravings  ;  then  he  turned  to  Irmgard, 
and  repeated  :  — 

"  What  has  happened  ?     Speak,  poor  child  !  " 

"  I  have  been  wounded  last  night,"  said  Irmgard,  with  a  weak  voice. 

"  Wounded  —  badly  wounded  ? " 

"  The  physician  says  so,  and  I  feel  that  it  is  really  severe !  " 

"  Just  God  !  you  poor,  poor  girl !     You  have  also  a  physician  ?  '^ 

"  He  has  been  here  twice,  already ;  the  son  of  our  landlady  has 
brought  him.  He  bound  up  my  wounds  this  morning." 

"  But  tell  me  how  it  has  occurred." 

"  We  had  found  an  entrance  into  the  cloister  —  into  the  dungeons. 
At  the  same  time  the  Countess  Corradina  with  Lord  Livio  Savelli, 
had  come  into  the  same  rooms  to  get  Egino  out.  We  met,  and  — 
speaking  is  difficult  for  me  ;  I  have  lost  too  much  blood  before  I 
was  bandaged,  the  doctor  says ;  let  my  uncle  tell  you.  My  uncle 
has  killed  Livio  Savelli.  Now,  the  murder  lies  heavy  upon  his  soul, 
and  he  is  grieving  for  some  one  to  whom  he  can  confess  it.  Let 
him  confess  it  to  you  !  " 

"  Yes ;  I  have  no  rest,  no  rest  more,  till  I  can  confess  it.  Let  me 
confess  it  to  you,  Brother ! "  sobbed  Uncle  Kraps. 

"Well,  well,  that  he  may,"  assented  Brother  Martin.  "But  first 
tell  me,  where  are  they  —  where  are  Egino  and  this  Corradina?" 


286  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"Both  in  the  house  —  of  Signer  Callisto,"  answered  Irmgard, 
uttering  the  words  with  difficulty. 

Brother  Martin  looked  around  in  the  spacious  chamber.  His  glance 
flew  over  the  few  pieces  of  old  furniture  ;  over  the  picture  of  Christ 
that  hung  in  a  dust-blackened  frame  on  the  wall ;  over  a  great  white 
marble  bust,  the  image  of  a  beautiful,  but  severe-looking,  heathen 
goddess,  which  stood  by  the  wall  opposite  Irmgard's  bed.  He  took 
a  chair  and  placed  it  in  the  most  remote  corner ;  Uncle  Kraps  fol- 
lowed him,  and  knelt  down  before  him  and  wept  and  whispered  his 
confession.  Brother  Martin  questioned  him  now  and  then,  and  thus 
he  obtained  information  of  the  events  of  the  past  night  so  far  as 
Uncle  Kraps  could  give  it.  When  he  had  communicated  the  abso- 
lution, he  arose  and  took  the  place  left  by  Uncle  Kraps  at  Irmgard's 
feet.  His  eyes  rested  a  long  time  with  a  moist  glance  upon  the  poor 
young  girl. 

-"  Irmgard,"  he  said  then,  softly,  and  with  a  voice  through  which 
emotion  trembled,  while  he  seized  the  hand  resting  upon  the  cover- 
let, "you  have  also  endangered  your  life  for  the  sake  of  this  young 
man,  who  yet  loves  another." 

"If  he  loved  me,"  she  replied,  with  a  feeble  smile,  "it  would  be 
no,  great  service.  Then  my  death  would  be  his  misfortune.  Now,  I 
die  for  his  happiness.  Is  it  not  better  so,  Brother  Martin?  " 

"  You  are  an  angel  in  spirit !  " 

She  shook  her  head. 

"An  angel?  I  repent  only  one  sin.  It  was  all,  indeed,  only  the 
consequence  of  my  unfortunate  advice  !  " 

"Such  consequences  you  could  not  foresee." 

"  Yes  ;  but  the  impulse  to  help  him  made  me  so  sinfully  inconsid- 
erate, that  I  gave  him  such  an  advice.  And,  perhaps,"  she  added, 
sighing,  "perhaps  there  was  still  another  sin  besides." 

"And  what,  Irmgard?" 

"  Can  I  tell  it  to  you  ?  When  I  advised  him  to  go  into  the  clois- 
ter, in  order  thus  to  come  into  the  vicinity  of  the  Countess  Corradina, 
there  I  fought  against  my  own  heart.  I  chided  my  heart  for  what 
existed  in  it,  sinful, —  sinful  jealousy!  Perhaps  that  was  wrong, — 
that  I  exercised  violence  against  my  own  heart." 

"That  was  not  a  wrong,"  put  in  Brother  Martin. 

"Do  you  know  that  so  positively  ?  Is  one  a'lowed  thus  to  repress 
her  heart  and  her  whole  soul  ?  Is  one  allowed  to  act  thus  against 
her  strongest,  best  emotions  ?  " 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  287 

Brother  Martin  did  not  answer.  He  only  looked  at  her  question- 
ingly  and  in  surprise. 

"  You  do  not  need  to  quiet  me  over  this  consciousness  of  sin,"  she 
continued,  smiling.  "  I  have  meant  it  for  good.  I  have  yet  also 
done  the  most  if  he  is  saved,  and  now  becomes  happy.  CorraSina 
said  —  when  we  were  in  the  flight  she  said  it  —  that  on  the  way  in 
which  she  would  have  led  him  into  liberty,  through  the  Castle  of  the 
Savelli,  there  certainly  would  snares,  or  murder,  even,  have  been 
lying  in  wait!  Now  he  is  free — by  me  !  I  am  not  sorry  that  I 
have  death  from  it.  I  do  not  cling  to  life.  If  only  some  friend 
would  care  for  Uncle  Kraps  !  I  wish  that  it  should  go  so  well  with 
him.  He  can  become  so  wild, —  as  wild  as  a  beast.  But  still  he  is 
good.  Even  when  he  grieves  that  he  has  committed  a  murder,  I 
still  love  him.  He  would  only  defend  himself  ;  and,  besides,  his  wild- 
ness  came  upon  him.  I  still  love  him,  but  love  life  no  more.  See, 
there, —  I  will  gladly  go  to  Him  with  the  bleeding  crown  ;  he  is  my 
brother ;  I  will  go  to  him.  Is  it  not  true  that  he  is  my  brother  in 
pain  and  good  will  ?  " 

Martin  followed  the  direction  of  her  eyes,  which  lay  upon  the  head 
of  Christ  on  the  wall. 

"  So  He  is,"  he  said,  also  casting  his  eyes,  large  arid  luminous, 
upon  the  picture.  "  He  is  your  brother,  and  is  near  you.  For  you 
they  have  not  been  able  to  slay  him  ;  your  spirit  keeps  him  alive  for 
you.  And  even  without  the  pain  he  would  be  your  brother,  as  he  is 
that  of  every  human  soul  that  seeks  and  loves  him  !  " 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE    PICTURE    OF    CHRIST   AND    THE    HEAD    OF    THE    GODDESS. 

FTER  Frau  Giulietta  had  conducted  Brother  Martin  to 
the  room  of  the  sick,  she  had  gone  back, —  back  to  Beppo. 
She  found  him  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  garden  path. 
He  had  torn  off  a  leaf  of  a  bush  and  was  chewing  it,  and 
looking  at  the  ground,  lost  in  thought.  When  his  mother  laid  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  he  started  violently. 

"  O    mother!  "  he  exclaimed,  taking  a  deep  breath. 

"Will  you  now  tell  me  what  all  this  means  ? "  said  Frau  Giulietta, 
in  great  warmth,  and  still  with  a  subdued  voice.  "  May  I  now  learn 
how  it  comes  to  pass  that  you  bring  that  poor  girl  to  the  house, 
wounded  to  death,  in  the  middle  of  the  night  ?  And  why  does  this 
Pasquino,  this  wine-bibber  of  a  dwarf,  mutter  to  himself  as  if  he  had 
become  deranged  ?  And  why  did  that  great,  black-clad  man  come  to 
you,  who  just  now  left  ?  And  why  should  I  keep  the  house  so  care- 
fully locked  ?  And  why  do  you  put  off  my  questions  about  this  with 
nothing  but  evasions  and  confused  exclamations,  as  if  I  were  a  child, 
and  without  right  to  know  ?  " 

"  My  dear  mother,"  exclaimed  Beppo,  laying  his  clasped  hands 
upon  her  shoulder,  and  looking  upon  her  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  "  I 
will  confess  everything  to  you,  everything,  everything  —  what  a  block- 
head, what  a  dunce,  what  a  brainless  fool  I  was  !  Oh  my  God  !  if 
now,  now,  where  this  Sor  Antonio  was  and  chased  a  mortal  fright 
over  my  members,  I  did  not  have  you,  in  order  to  acknowledge  and 
confess  it  to  you,  it  would  break  my  heart." 

"So,  now,  speak,  —  speak  what  has  happened!  Tell  where  you 
were  with  these  foreigners  last  night." 

"Where  we  were,  mother?  You  have  heard  that  Livio  Savelli 
was  killed  last  night,  and  that  his  sister-in-law,  Countess  Corradina, 
has  eloped." 

2SS 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  289 

"  Holy  body  !     You  surely  would  not  have  killed  him  ? " 

"Who  knows,  mother,  who  knows?  By  Heaven!  it  is  not  im- 
possible ! " 

"Not  impossible  that  you, —  that  you  —  "  cried  Fran  Giulietta,  in 
horror,  and  seizing  with  trembling  hand  the  arm  of  her  son,  as  if  to 
hold  herself  upright  in  her  fright. 

Beppo  led  her  to  the  seat  under  the  plane  tree  and  the  mulberry 
tree.  There  he  dropped  down  near  her,  and  laying  his  hand  upon 
her  shoulder,  and  staring  upon  the  ground  as  if  annihilated,  he 
whispered  :  — 

"  See,  this  is  all  that  I  can  tell  you.  The  young  girl  heard  from 
me  that  we  had  made  excavations,  and  had  found  an  entrance  to  the 
subterranean  rooms  under  the  cloister  of  Santa  Sabina,  where  they, 
the  Dominican  monks,  as  they  say,  have  their  cloisters,  and  where 
the  immured  languish.  Now,  she  wished  to  go  in  there." 

"In  there!"  cried  Giulietta,  in  the  utmost  astonishment.  "Im- 
possible ! " 

"It  is  so,  mother.     She  wished  to  go  in  there." 

"But,  Holy  Mother  !  why  —  for  what  purpose  ?  " 

"She  wished  to  see  the  ones  immured  there." 

"To  see  the  immured  —  she,  the  German  girl  ?  " 

"She  wished  it  —  she  wished  it,  at  all  events." 

"See  the  immured  of  Sant  Uffizio  !  "  repeated  Frau  Giulietta, 
unable  to  recover  from  her  astonishment. 

"She  had  set  her  head  upon  it." 

"But  didn't  you  say  to  her  that  the  Sant  Uffizio  is  a  sacred  thing ; 
that " 

"I  told  her  everything;  but  she  begged  and  begged,  and  I,  —  I 
was  such  a  fool,  such  a  wretched  fool,  that  I  promised  to  show  her 
the  way." 

"And  you  did  that,  —  really  did  that  ?  " 

"  I  did  it.  I  procured  one  of  the  great  lanterns  which  we  use  in 
the  excavations.  At  the  third  hour  after  Ave  Maria  we  went,  —  an 
hour  before  midnight.  You  were  fast  asleep,  and  did  not  notice 
how  we  stole  away." 

Frau  Giulietta  struck  her  hands  together  with  an  "O  God !" 

"  We  went  to  the  Aventine  ;  there,  where,  left  of  the  Marmorata, 
lies  the  debris  at  the  foot  of  the  rocks,  you  know,  there  is  an  old, 
now  unused  wine-cellar ;  through  this  one  succeeds  to  the  vaults 
.under  the  cloister.  A  passage,  which  had  been  obstructed,  leads 


290  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

upward,  and  this  passage  we  had  opened  the  day  before ;  Master 
Raphael  Santi  had  ordered  it.  Through  this  passage  I  led  her,  and 
then  through  an  opening  in  a  vault  up  into  a  great  room, — great, 
desolate,  and  dark.  At  the  end  of  this  room,  in  one  corner,  is  an  old, 
iron-grated  door,  through  which  one  comes  farther,  and  perhaps  into 
the  dungeons,  perhaps  into  the  cloister  itself.  There  I  remained  be- 
hind, mother  —  believe  me,  I  remained  behind,  I  had  such  dread  of 
sacrilege "  . 

"  Go  on  !     Tell  me  further!  "  interjected  Giulietta. 

"  I  saw  how  the  German  dwarf  shook  at  the  iron  door  ;  how  he 
drew  out  a  piece  of  iron,  and  broke  from  the  old  wall-work  the  slot 
in  which  the  bolt  stuck.  I  believe  he  could  have  done  it  with  his 
mere  fingers,  for  this  hunchbacked,  wrinkled  man  has  the  strength 
of  an  ox.  I  believe  he  could  take  a  buffalo  on  his  crooked  back. 
He  broke  the  slot  out  as  if  it  had  been  set  in  rotten  wood,  and  then 
they  both  went,  he  and  the  young  girl,  through  the  door,  and  took 
the  lantern  with  them,  leaving  me  behind  them  in  the  dark.  I  saw 
how  they  stole  along  the  passage  farther  and  farther.  Like  dark 
shadows  they  glided  on  ;  the  light  of  the  lantern  traveled  over  the 
dark  passage-walls  near  them,  growing  ever  smaller  and  weaker. 
Finally  it  disappeared  altogether.  Everything  was  now  still, —  was 
night  around  me.  I  heard  my  heart  beat ;  I  heard  the  dust  gently 
falling  down;  I  heard  my  anxious  breathing  —  that  was  all.  And 
then  suddenly  voices, —  voices,  but  quite  from  a  distance.  I  was  dread- 
fully frightened,  you  may  yourself  think ;  I  wished  to  follow  them, 
but  groping  forward,  I  struck  my  forehead  against  the  iron  door 
standing  open  in  the  room  in  which  I  was  waiting.  That  made  me 
more  considerate.  I  also  soon  saw  the  light  of  the  lantern  again 
shimmering,  and  then  a  bright  light  as  of  a  torch  glowing.  It  came 
nearer  and  nearer ;  the  shadows  were  there  again,  two,  three, 
shadows ;  one  shadow  so  broad  and  large,  what  could  it  be  ?  They 
hastened  and  came  quickly  to  me.  God,  mother!  how  I  was  fright- 
ened when  I  saw  that  the  great  shadow  was  nothing  but  the  crooked 
dwarf,  who  was  carrying  the  young  maiden  in  his  arms  ;  and  as  if 
dead,  as  if  dead  forever  she  was,  her  head  falling  back  like  that  of  a 
corpse  !  " 

"  Most  Holy  Virgin  !  "  exclaimed  Frau  Giulietta.  "And  the  other 
shadows  ? " 

"  Did  I  know  them  ?  "  said  Beppo.     "  A  tall,  beautiful,  proud  lady, 
and  a  handsome,  but  pale,  young  man,  who  came  weak  and  tottering, 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  291 

and   whom    the   lady   led,    who    supported    himself    upon    her   so." 

Beppo  laid  his  left  arm  around  the  neck  and  upon  the  left  shoulder 
of  his  mother. 

"  So  they  walked,  and  when  they  saw  me  they  beckoned  with  the 
hand,  and  murmured,  'Away,  away,  Beppo.'  The  dwarf  said  that, 
and  held  the  lantern  to  me,  that  I  should  carry  it ;  but  the  lady  gave 
me  also  the  torch,  and  so  I  took  both ;  and  so  we  hastened  farther, 
springing  through  the  opening  in  the  floor  down  upon  the  heap  of 
rubbish  lying  under  it,  and  through  the  passage,  and,  finally,  into  the 
open  air.  Out  in  the  fresh  night-air  the  German  girl  recovered  from 
her  unconsciousness,  and  whispered  with  the  others,  and  wished  to 
go  upon  her  own  feet ;  but  the  dwarf  would  not  permit  it,  but  held 
her  in  his  arms.  They  talked  together  in  their  German  speech,  and 
then  the  dwarf  walked  forward  with  his  burden,  and  carried  her  here. 
I  walked  in  advance,  showing  the  way.  I  had  then  only  the  lantern  ; 
the  torch  I  had  hurled  away  into  the  Tiber  ;  and  so  we  came  back, 
the  dwarf  carrying  the  girl,  and  I  breathlessly  hastening  on  in 
advance." 

"  And  the  gentleman  and  the  lady  ?  " 

"They  had  disappeared  as  we  came  on, —  vanished  into  the  night. 
The  gentleman  and  the  lady  must  have  fallen  upon  another  way,  on  a 
spot  where  they  could  remain  behind  without  my  perceiving  them. 
They  had  already  disappeared  when  we  were  passing  over  the  Campo 
Vaccino ;  there  I  looked  around  after  them,  and  saw  them  no  more." 

"  And  who,  I  pray  you,  were  they  ?  Whither  did  they  come  ?  Who 
has  thus  mortally  wounded  the  young  girl  ?  and  what  has  Livio 
Savelli  to  do  with  it?  and  who  has  murdered  him  ?  and " 

"  Mother,  I  have  told  you  all, —  all  that  I  know  ;  but  the  man  who 
just  went  away  from  me  said " 

"  Who  was  he  ?  " 

"  His  name  is  Antonio,  the  body-servant  of  the  murdered  Livio 
Savelli.  He  said  the  sister-in-law  of  his  master  has  fled,  and  at  the 
same  time  a  German  count,  Countess  Corradina's  lover,  out  of  the 
Dominican  cloister ;  and  they  must  be  the  murderers,  and  all  that 
belong  to  the  house  of  Savelli  search  and  spy  after  them,  and  guard 
every  road  and  bridge  ;  and  we,  we  who  are  clients  of  the  house  of 
Colonna,  must  assist  them.  Sor  Marcello,  the  master  of  affairs  over 
in  the  Colonna  Palace,  had  told  him  he  should,  in  passing  by,  let  me 
know,  and  commission  me,  in  Marcello's  name,  to  help  discover  the 
fugitives.  How  that  man  has  perplexed  me,  I  cannot  at  all  tell  you  !  " 


292  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  Oh  !  we  poor,  poor  creatures  !  "  exclaimed  Frau  Giulietta  ;  "  into- 
what  misfortune  we  have  fallen  through  these  Germans  and  through 
your  folly,  Beppo  ! " 

"Yes,  through  my  folly!  "  said  Beppo,  the  tears  coming  into  his 
eyes. 

"  Will  they  not  track  up,  investigate,  search,  till  everything  in  this 
dreadful,  dark  story  lies  as  clear  before  the  eyes  as  daylight  ;  till  they 
know  that  you  were  the  guide  of  these  people ;  till  they  seize  upon 
you,  and  —  O,  my  God,  my  God  !  "  groaned  Frau  Giulietta,  who  from 
dread  and  horror  could  speak  no  further,  but  broke  out  in  a  flood  of 
tears. 

Beppo  folded  his  hands,  held  them  between  his  knees,  and  staring 
upon  the  ground,  he  said  :  — 

"  All  that  I  say  to  myself,  mother.  Oh  !  if  I  could  only  do  some- 
thing to  make  it  good  again  ;  only  something  with  which  to  punish 
myself  right  severely  for  my  brainless  stupidity^*" 

"Think  of  nothing  further  than  saving  yourself,"  sobbed  Frau 
Giulietta.  "You  must  flee,  Beppo, —  you  must  flee  instantly.  You 
must  be  far,  far  from  here  when  they  find  out  the  connection  of  this 
affair,  and  then  the  bailiffs  and  their  chief  come  to  take  you 
prisoner !  " 

"And  if  they  then  take  you, —  if  they  drag  you  before  the  court,  as 
sharing  the  knowledge  of  the  affair,  as  an  accomplice  ?  No,  mother, 
I  will  not  flee ;  I  will  leave  you  in  no  case,  mother." 

"  You  must,  Beppo " 

"  Say  nothing  more  about  it.  I  can  do  only  one  thing  to  atone  for 
my  follies  —  only  one  ;  to  stay  with  you,  in  spite  of  my  anxiety  ;  to 
remain  to  protect  you  ;  to  be  able  to  say  that  I  will  make  known  all 
that  I  know,  but  leave  my  mother  untouched,  for  she, —  she  knows 
nothing  about  it.  I  will  take  upon  myself  the  anxiety  for  your  sake, 
mother.  It  is  the  only  thing  I  can  do  to  atone  for  my  sin, —  the  only 
thing  !  Say  nothing  further  about  it ;  I  remain  with  you,  mother." 

Frau  Giulietta  found  Beppo  immovable  in  this  ;  also  when  she 
pleaded  with  him,  if  he  would  not  leave  Rome,  to  stay,  but  to  flee 
into  one  of  the  numerous  asylums  to  which  transgressors  took  their 
flight,  —  into  a  church  or  a  cloister,  or  into  the  court  of  a  cardinal. 

"  That  would  be  foolish,"  he  said  ;  "  for  thereby  I  would  betray  my- 
self even  before  they  have  a  suspicion  against  me,  and  betray  with 
myself  that  poor  German  girl." 

"  The  poor  German  girl  !     Do  you  speak  thus  of  these  abominable 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  293 

Germans  who  have  led  you  astray,  and  think  more  of  them  than  of 
your  mother's  anxiety  of  soul?"  sobbed  Frau  Giulietta. 

Loud  talking  and  gay  laughter  at  this  moment  penetrated  from 
without,  into  the  quiet  corner  of  the  garden  in  which  Frau  Giulietta 
and  her  son  sat  in  such  deep  trouble.  Beppo  sprang  up  and  stepped 
out  of  the  thicket  to  the  lower  hedge,  to  see  who  was  coming  :  he 
espied  a  whole  crowd  of  young  people,  about  twenty,  who  were  pass- 
ing by.  In  advance  went  a  handsome  and  finely  built  young  man 
with  a  long  neck,  a  little  bowed  forward,  and  pale,  evenly  olive-tinted 
skin.  He  was  clad  in  black  velvet,  with  a  dark-green  over-garment, 
over  which  a  golden  chain  adorned  the  breast,  while  from  his  black 
cap  fluttered  back  a  long,  white  plume.  Another  young  man  simi- 
larly clothed,  only  without  the  chain,  bore  in  his  hand  after  him  the 
sword  of  the  first,  fastened  to  him  by  a  fine  golden  pendant. 

Beppo  made  a  profound  bow  when  the  crowd,  which  appeared  as 
if  some  prince  had  come  hither  with  his  suite,  was  opposite  to  him. 
The  young  man  at  the  head  saw  him,  and  recognizing  him,  turned 
and  stepped  to  the  hedge  behind  which  Beppo  stood,  while  the  new- 
comer gayly  cried  out  :  — 

"  Ay,  isn't  that  Beppo,  my  industrious  workman  ?  Do  you  live 
here,  Beppo  ?  " 

Beppo  bowed  again,  slightly  reddening,  and  answered  :  — 

"  Just  so,  Master  Raphael  Santi." 

"  And  this  is  your  little  house,  and  your  garden  ?  Look,  look,  how 
cleverly  this  Beppo  has  housed  himself !  Can  there  be  fresher  air 
and  a  finer  prospect  in  all  Rome  ?  Let  me  into  your  garden  ;  and  I 
wish  to  see  your  house,  too,  Beppo.  Come  here,  you  Giovanni ;  we 
will  make  our  call  upon  Beppo  instead  of  upon  the  great  Alfonso  von 
Ferrara  and  the  mighty  Fabricio  Colonna,  over  there.  They  can  fore- 
go our  company,  the  proud  lords  ;  but  Beppo  is  a  brave  youth,  and 
will  rejoice  if  we  visit  him.  Will  you  not,  Beppo  ? " 

"  Ay,  long  live  Beppo  and  his  little  house  !  "  exclaimed  the  others, 
the  pupils  and  art  comrades,  in  overflowing  humor,  and  always  ready 
to  act  upon  the  suggestions  of  their  young  master. 

"  Long  live  the  fresh  air  in  Beppo's  garden  !  "  was  further  cried 
out,  in  good-natured  sport. 

Raphael  had  stepped  into  the  garden,  to  whose  entrance,  on  the 
inside  of  the  hedge,  Beppo  had  approached,  with  his  cap  torn  off. 
Now,  for  the  first  time,  Raphael  perceived  the  poor  fellow's  deeply 
downcast  mien. 


294  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  Eh,  brave  Beppo,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  Have  we  so 
frightened  you  with  our  noisy  breaking  in  ?  Do  you  fear  that  we  will 
voluntarily  tread  down  your  cabbages  and  your  artichokes  here  ?  " 

"It  is  not  that,  noble  master,"  stammered  Beppo, —  "only  that  I 
cannot  at  this  hour  lead  you  into  my  house,  because, —  because " 

"  Has  he  just  hidden  his  sweetheart  in  there,  whom  he  will  not  let 
us  see,  this  rascal  of  a  Beppo  ? "  exclaimed  laughingly  the  one  with 
the  sword. 

"  Because  a  sick  girl  is  in  the  house,"  exclaimed  Beppo,  with  a 
suppressed  tone,  whispering. 

"That  is  something  different,"  said  Raphael;  and  showing  the 
pupils  back,  he  added  :  — 

"  Who  is  she  ?     A  sister  ?  your  mother  ?  poor  Beppo  !  " 

"  It  is  not  one  belonging  to  us  ;  it  is  a  foreigner,  who  lives  with 
us  for  rent." 

"  A  foreigner  ?  And  still  you  seem  so  troubled  and  pained  ?  Is 
she  so  dear  to  you  ?  or  is  her  condition  so  bad  ?  Or  is  it  want  and 
need  ?  Can  I  do  something,  Beppo  ?  Is  any  assistance  needed  ? 
You  can  speak  openly  to  me,  you  know  ;  I  gladly  help " 

Beppo  looked  with  emotion  into  the  features  of  the  master,  who, 
with  such  a  noble  expression,  gave  utterance  to  so  warm  a  desire  to 
help.  He  was  tempted  to  trust  to  him  at  once  his  whole  grief,  when 
the  house-door  was  opened,  and  Brother  Martin,  coming  out,  stepped 
upon  the  threshold. 

"  Ah  !  is  it  so  bad  you  have  already  sent  for  a  priest  ? "  said 
Raphael,  with  a  glance  at  him  ;  and  then  recognizing  Brother  Martin, 
he  went  to  him  with  a  "  How,  is  it  you  ?  you  here  ? " 

Brother  Martin,  seeing  the  company  of  young  men,  had  remained 
standing  on  the  threshold.  His  eyes  lighted  up  when  he  recognized 
Raphael,  and  without  saying  a  word  he  beckoned  to  him  quickly 
with  the  hand  and  stepped  back  into  the  house,  out  of  which  he  had 
come,  and  whose  door  still  remained  open. 

Raphael  followed  him.  He  followed  him  through  the  room  which 
was  at  once  sitting-room  and  kitchen.  Through  the  door  which 
Brother  Martin  gently  opened  to  the  right,  Raphael  entered  Irm- 
gard's  chamber, —  the  bright,  pleasant  room  with  old,  but  well-waxed 
and  polished  furniture,  and  the  white,  fine  mats  over  the  red  bricks 
forming  the  floor.  What  Raphael  next  observed  upon  entering  was 
the  white  marble  image  which  was  placed  to  the  left  by  the  wall  on 
a  pedestal  rudely  formed  of  wood.  He  recognized  a  very  good  copy 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  295 

of  the  fine  head  of  Juno,  which  to-day  is  called  the  Juno  Ludovisi. 
A  talented  young  man,  Beppo's  friend,  had  intrusted  it  to  his  care, 
since  the  former  had  gone  to  his  native  place,  Ceprano.  Opposite  to 
this,  on  the  opposite  wall  of  the  great  room,  upon  the  bed  with  plain 
curtains  of  green  serge,  which  were  drawn  back,  he  discovered  Irm- 
gard,  her  face  flushed  with  a  strong  glow  of  fever,  her  eyes  large, 
with  a  weak,  indifferent  look  directed  toward  those  entering.  At 
the  foot  of  the  bed  sat  Uncle  Kraps,  again  drooping  over,  staring  at 
the  floor,  moving  his  lips,  still  without  uttering  an  intelligible  word. 

Raphael  approached  the  bed. 

"  Is  it  you  lying  here  in  so  bad  a  condition  ?  "  said  he,  full  of  sym- 
pathy, seizing  her  hand.  "  Poor  child,  so  far  from  your  land  !  Have 
you  good  nursing  and  everything  you  need  ?  Shall  I  send  my 
physician  to  you  ?  Shall  I  send  you  my  Margarita,  that  she  may 
look  after  what  is  to  be  done  ?  You  seem  to  be  here  with  none  but 
men." 

"  My  mother  nurses  her,"  here  whispered  Beppo,  who  had  followed 
the  two  men  into  the  chamber.  "  We  do  everything  possible,  master, 
to  alleviate  her  bad  condition.  We  have  also  had  here  Messer  Arran- 
ghi,  who  is  a  skillful  surgeon  and  a  reliable  friend." 

Irmgard  nodded  her  head  to  Beppo  as  if  in  gratitude,  and  while  so 
doing  smiled  painfully,  as  if  she  would  say,  "  From  a  physician  is  no 
help  for  me."  Then  her  glance  wandered  from  the  men  who  had 
approached  her  bed,  and  was  directed  upon  the  wall  before  her,  where, 
over  the  head  of  her  uncle,  hung  the  painting  in  the  old,  black 
frame, —  the  pale  head  of  Christ  with  the  crown  of  thorns;  an  old 
and  unartistic  picture  of  the  time  of  Masaccio. 

Her  eyes  took  on  something  indescribably  mild,  spiritual,  soulful, 
as  she  directed  them  from  those  present  toward  the  picture. 

Raphael  observed  her  awhile  still  with  aroused  sympathy  ;  yet, 
since  she  did  not  again  turn  to  him  her  glance,  did  not  speak,  and 
seemed  to  forget  those  present,  he  turned  away  to  the  window, 
through  which  one  could  overlook  the  little  garden,  at  whose  en- 
trance one  perceived  the  troop  of  the  master's  companions  waiting. 

"  Why  have  you  led  me  hither,  Brother  Martin  ? "  he  here  whis- 
pered to  the  German  monk.  "  If  I  can  be  of  use  here,  tell  me." 

"See  what  she  is  looking  at  !  "  responded  Brother  Martin,  just  as 
softly. 

"  At  the  Eccc  Homo  !  "  replied  Raphael.     "  What  of  it  ?  " 


296  LUl^HER    IN   ROME. 

Brother  Martin  did  not  answer.  He  took  him  by  the  hand  and 
led  him  out  of  the  chamber  and  out  of  the  little  house. 

Not  till  they  were  again  in  the  garden  did  he  say  :  — 

"  I  have  brought  my  head  back  out  of  this  chamber  full  of  thoughts ; 
and  when  I  saw  you,  I  beckoned  you  hither  to  show  you  something 
which  may  also  give  you  something  to  think  about.  That  young 
creature  in  there  has  a  great  heart  and  a  deeply  feeling  soul ;  there 
is  a  full  and  pure  human  spirit  in  her  !  She  has,  in  the  past  night, 
fallen  into  a  remarkable  adventure,  and  in  it  has  been  wounded,  so 
that  she  will  hardly  come  out  of  it  with  life.  She,  at  least,  thinks 
that  she  will  die.  And  now,  Master  Raphael,  have  you  followed  the 
glance  of  her  brightening  eye  ?  Did  she  look  upon  the  masterpiece 
of  heathen  art  in  her  chamber,  the  head  of  a  goddess  gloriously  hewn 
out  of  marble,  or  the  picture  of  Christ,  of  which  you  will  best  know 
that  it  is  indeed  only  right  feebly  and  unskillfully  painted  ?  To  whom 
did  her  soul  fly  ?  To  what  did  her  heart,  thirsting  for  consolation, 
cling  ?  And  where  did  she  find  comfort  ?  " 

Raphael  was  silent  awhile  before  he  answered  :  — 

"  You  are  thinking  about  our  last  discussion,  and  believe  you  have 
vanquished  me  now  by  a  tangible  proof  that  to  the  human  soul  in 
pain,  only  the  art  which  serves  faith  is  of  benefit." 

"And  am  I  not  right  ?" 

"  No ;  a  Grecian  maid  in  dying  would  certainly  not  have  looked 
upon  the  bleeding  head  of  a  tortured  mortal,  but  the  beautiful  head 
of  the  mother  of  the  gods  !  " 

"  Would  it  have  given  to  her  the  comfort  which  the  poor  maiden 
imbibes  from  the  countenance  of  the  Redeemer,  and  which  is  re- 
flected by  Irmgard's  looks  ?  " 

"  It  all  depends,"  said  Raphael,  without  answering  the  question, 
"  upon  the  ideas  and  thoughts  which  we  have  learned  to  associate 
with  the  pictures.  Let  us  throw  all  that  aside ;  still  the  truth  re- 
mains that  the  head  of  Juno  is  beautiful,  the  suffering  head  of  the 
primitive  Christ  is  deeply  moving.  Out  of  both  looks  forth  something 
pure,  great,  human,  in  its  noblest  form.  The  one  looks  down  upon 
us  from  the  height  of  beauty  ;  the  other,  out  of  the  depths  of  soul. 
The  one  compels  us  through  the  form ;  the  other,  through  the  spirit 
which  stands  beyond  earthly  beauty." 

"  Does  not  the  spirit  stand  high  above  the  form  ? " 

"  Let  us  not  contend  about  it !  Let  us  strive  to  unite  the  form  of 
one  and  the  spirit  of  the  other  ;  let  us  represent  the  perfect,  but 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  297 

pure,  beauty  of  earthly  form  unabridged  and  undraped,  but  in  the 
light  of  most  heavenly  thoughts,  in  the  midst  of  the  clouds  of 
heaven  ! " 

Brother  Martin  nodded. 

"Well,  well,"  he  replied,  "with  this  word  of  yours  I  will  then 
be  satisfied ;  and  let  us  also  bring  our  discordant  opinions  to  an 
agreement,  for  I  see  I  can  yet  reach  no  more  with  you  ! " 

"And  now  tell  me,"  continued  Raphael,  "by  what  adventure  has 
this  maiden " 

"I  cannot!"  Brother  Martin  put  in.  "It  is  a  secret  of  the 
Confessional.  The  girl's  uncle  has  confessed  it  to  me.  This 
deranged  and  half-beastly  man  has  no  greater  desire  than  to  be  able 
to  confess  what  has  happened " 

"Then  pardon  my  question,"  broke  in  Raphael,  "and  farewell, 
Brother  Martin.  My  time  presses.  You  know  my  house  and  the 
way  to  me,  in  case  you  need  any  assistance  for  your  German 
friends.  Good-night,  then;  and  also  to  you,  Beppo,  good-night!" 

Beppo  had  kept  himself  at  a  respectful  distance  upon  the  thresh- 
old. He  came  now  to  accompany  the  master  through  the  garden. 
Brother  Martin  also  took  his  departure  ;  he  went  overwhelmed  with 
his  thoughts,  excited  as  he  had  scarcely  ever  been  in  his 'life, —  a 
feeling  in  head  and  breast  as  if  they  would  burst. 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE    WATCH-DOG. 

was  a  desolate  road  through  a  but  scantily  built-up,  ruin- 
filled  neighborhood  of  Rome  upon  which  Brother  Martin 
entered,  over  heights  upon  which  arose  the  old  Sabine 
city  of  Quirium  and  Rome's  most  ancient  capitol.  Over 
the  ridge  of  the  Quirinal  Hill  he  wandered  northward  to  Monte 
Pincio,  which  was  no  less  desolate ;  for  then  Sixtus  V.  had  not  yet 
built  here,  nor  formed  the  streets  which  still  to-day  are  called  Via 
Felice  and  Via  Sistina,  after  this  sarcastic  and  cunning,  but  brave 
ruler. 

There  stood  on  this  road  poor,  solitary  houses  covered  in  part 
with  reeds;  churches  lying  isolated  with  cloister  buildings  attached; 
ruins  of  old  baronial  towers ;  darkly  massive,  broken-down  archways 
of  antiquity ;  mountains  of  rubbish  and  fragments  of  fallen  structures 
towering  aloft ;  between  them  cultivated  fields,  upon  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  customs  and  rules  of  their  forefathers,  as  already  com- 
plained of  by  Virgil,  three  or  four  kinds  of  products  were  being 
coaxed  at  the  same  time  from  the  same  piece  of  ground. 

The  neighborhood  was  unfrequented,  and  so  Brother  Martin, 
without  becoming  disturbed  by  meeting  persons,  could  allow  himself 
to  sink  into  the  seething  thoughts  which,  without  his  perceiving  it 
himself,  now  stormed  forth  in  the  hastening  step ;  now  made  him 
stand  still  as  if  rooted  to  the  ground,  directing  his  eye  feebly  upon 
some  point  to  his  left  in  the  panorama  of  the  Eternal  City  below 
him, —  a  point  which  he  still  did  not  perceive. 

What  he  had  experienced  on  this  day ! 

The  Pope  had  thrust  him  back  with  his  soul-life  filling  his  whole 
heart.  He  had  seen  how  from  up  there  the  church  was  ruled  by  the 
"  Holy  Spirit  !  " 

He  had,  through  that  which  Irmgard's  uncle  confessed  to  him, 
thrown  a  glance  into  the  dark,  wherein  lay  the  weapons  with  which 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  299 

the  "Holy  Spirit  "  defended  and  maintained  its  government.  The 
picture  of  the  "  Chapel  of  the  Immured  "  stood  before  him,  and 
caused  the  blood  to  congeal  in  his  veins. 

And  while  he  was  now  walking  along,  agitated  in  his  innermost 
being,  as  if  incited  and  scourged  by  the  storm  in  him  to  some  strong, 
violent  action,  to  some  deed  which  could  save  him  from  distress,  it 
seemed  to  him  as  if  something  ran  near  him, —  an  evil  spirit,  a  cun- 
ning, jeering  animal,  which  looked  at  him  as  that  watchful  dog  of 
the  poet, — 

"  Within  the  heart-depths  most  profound 

Of  e'en  the  most  avowed  believer, 
Sits  Doubt,  the  ever-watchful  hound, 
To  bay  at  Christ  as  a  deceiver." 

It  was  heart-gnawing  doubt  which  ran  near  the  form  of  the  un- 
happy German  monk  walking  along  over  the  heights  of  Rome. 

He  fixed  his  eyes  upon  it  as  the  shadow  lengthened  which  the  sun, 
setting  behind  the  Vatican,  threw  near  him  upon  the  dry,  hard  grass- 
plot,  drawing  upon  the  ground  a  giant  image  of  the  dark  man  in  the 
gown,  with  the  ends  of  his  garment  fluttering  behind  him  in  the 
wind. 

Had  he  been  able  to  exorcise  the  Devil,  as  the  Pope  gave  him 
credit  for,  he  would  have  hurled  his  most  powerful  exorcisms  against 
this  Devil.  He  could  not  do  it. 

The  dog  barked  on  and  on. 

"There  is  no  original  sin!"  said  his  barking.  "It  is  not  true, 
that  proposition  about  original  sin.  And  upon  this  rests  everything. 
With  this  everything  falls.  What  impelled  this  confounded  half- 
witless  old  man  to  confess  to  me,  with  such  anxiety  of  soul,  that  he 
had  killed  a  man — that  he  was  the  murderer  of  Savelli  ?  What  else 
but  because  the  most  enveloped  human  nature  is  something  originally 
good,  which  impels  it  to  remove  from  itself  the  evil,  to  hurl  it  away, 
and  to  become  healed  from  it,  as  from  a  cancer  ? " 

If  he  had  heard  Beppo's  confession  to  Frau  Giulietta,  Luther 
would  have  added:  "What  impels  this  young  man  to  atone  for  a 
sin  with  which  he  reproaches  himself  through  a  pain,  through 
anxiety  and  distress,  which  he  takes  upon  himself?  What  is  this 
pain  in  him  other  than  the  bitter  medicine  which  he  will  sip  against 
the  evil  that  has  come  into  his  good  nature  ?  The  evil,  sin,  is  only 
the  foreign,  diseased  stuff,  the  matter  which  shall  suppurate  in  pain 


300  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

and  smarting.  Man  is  good,  is  originally  good,  not  originally  bad. 
The  conscience  is  the  umbilical  cord  by  which  he  is  connected  with 
the  original  maternal  good.  The  feeling  that  he  is  descended 
from  an  original  good,  that  he  is  a  piece  of  it,  gives  to  him 
faith.  Faith  is  the  perception  of  the  good  ruling  the  world.  The 
illusion  of  hereditary  sin  creates  the  illusion  of  the  Devil.  Evil  is 
only  a  sickening  of  the  good,  —  an  illness,  as  a  fever  is  an  illness. 
What  is  a  fever  ?  Is  it  a  being  ?  No.  It  is  nothing  lasting,  nothing 
having  an  existence.  No,  no  ;  the  strings  of  the  human  soul  have  a 
beautiful  and  pure  tone,  although  they  may  get  out  of  tune.  Get- 
ing  out  of  tune,  not  the  tune,  is  the  evil.  Cold  is  only  want  of  heat. 
Evil  is  only  want  of  good.  Therefore  do  not  ask,  '  How  came  evil 
into  the  world  ?  Through  a  serpent  ? '  Foolishness  !  Did  not 
Moses  hang  your  loathsome  serpent  around  the  cross  ?  The  ser- 
pent which  you  have  wound  around  the  cross,  that  is  your  lie  and 
fraud.  The  cross !  That  calls  to  mind  the  voluntary  death  of  Him 
who  was  willing  to  take  upon  himself  the  suffering  of  mankind ;  and 
from  those  features,  even  now,  the  sick  Irmgard  derives  conso- 
lation. Upon  himself,  the  blessed  one,  for  he  is  stronger  than  we 
all.  If  we  think  of  all  the  grief  of  the  poor  human  race,  the  im- 
pulse seizes  us  to  take  upon  ourselves  a  bit  of  all  this  sorrow  around 
us.  We  would  like  to  bow  the  neck  to  fate,  and  call  to  it :  '  Place 
upon  me  a  part  of  the  burden ;  I  will  help  the  unhappy  one  to  bear 
it ;  give  my  brother's  care  to  me  for  one  day.  Let  him  for  this  one 
day  rejoice  ! ' 

"  That  lies  in  human  nature.     Is  human  nature  bad  ? 

"  Is  there  a  hereditary  sin  in  this  Irmgard,  who  does  not  com- 
plain, and  is  consoled  because  she  has  sacrificed  her  life  for  him 
whose  life  and  happiness  she  believes  herself  to  have  purchased 
through  the  sacrifice  ? 

"  Is  it  a  depraved  nature  which  looks  out  of  her  eyes  upon  the 
picture  of  Christ  as  upon  that  of  a  man  who  is  her  God,  but  also  her 
brother  in  pain  ?  " 

So  barked  the  dog  which  ran  near  the  monk  over  the  precipice  of 
the  Pincian  Hill, — a  heretical  dog ;  an  animal  like  the  "poodle"  of 
Faust,  but,  truly,  the  "poodle's  "  inner  nature  was  different.  Still,  his 
bark  tormented  the  poor  monk  inexpressibly.  Since  he  felt  himself 
as  if  broken,  and  since  to  his  breast  the  act  of  breathing  became 
difficult,  he  dropped  down  upon  a  ridge  covered  with  short  grass, 
which  lay  vacant  between  two  built-up  pieces  of  ground.  He 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  301 

mopped  his  brow  with  his  handkerchief,  and  then  supported  his 
broad  chin  upon  the  arm  propped  up  by  his  knees. 

With  gloomy  brows  drawn  together  he  looked  over  to  the  "  Eternal 
City"  and  to  the  Vatican,  which,  with  its  proud  and  firm  mass,  was 
darkly  delineated  upon  the  horizon,  because  the  sun  stood  already 
behind  it. 

Over  there  in  the  Vatican  this  Master  Raphael  Santi  painted  on 
the  walls  his  pictures  for  the  Pope,  beautiful,  sinless  human  forms 
such  as  Plato  considered  the  embodied  thoughts  of  God. 

Was  not  this  Raphael  right  ?  Brother  Martin  began  to  understand 
him.  But  then,  then,  if  he  was  right,  then  everything,  all  theology 
and  all  scholasticism,  tumbled  into  a  heap.  Mankind  had  been  for  so 
many  centuries  a  wanderer  in  the  night ! 

After  awhile  there  came  this  way  an  old  man  driving  a  donkey 
before  him.  He  stopped  before  the  monk,  and  asked  :  — 

"  Eh,  brother,  do  you  wish  to  get  the  perniciosa? " 

Brother  Martin  looked  up. 

"What  shall  I  get?" 

"Do. you  not  know  that  whoever  sits  upon  the  ground  here  con- 
tracts the  fever,  —  the  perniciosa  ?  " 

"The  perniciosa,"  replied  Brother  Martin,  smiling  bitterly  ;  "cer- 
tainly, certainly.  I  know  it  seizes  upon  the  human  frame  here,  and 
I  believe  it  shakes  mine  already." 

He  arose  and  walked  on  to  his  cloister. 


CHAPTER   XL 

SAN   DOMINICO'S   TORCH   AND    SERPENT. 

HEN  Padre  Geronimo,  the  Inquisitor,  had  returned  from 
the  Vatican  to  his  cloister  at  Santa  Sabina,  he  had  the 
prior  and  Father  Eustachius  called  to  him  into  the  clois- 
ter-garden, into  which  he  had  gone  down.  He  had  asked 
^to  have  himself  informed  of  what  had  happened  during  his  absence, 
and  the  prior  had  imparted  to  him  that  the  order-brethren  down  in 
the  city,  at  Santa  Minerva,  had  undertaken  the  careful  oversight  of 
the  German  servant  of  the  escaped  Count  Egino,  of  whom  it  was  to 
be  supposed  that  he  would  seek  out  his  master,  in  case  he  had  not 
been  informed  of  the  latter's  stopping-place  ;  also,  that  some  one  had 
discovered  the  trace  of  the  German  maiden  who  had  accompanied 
Egino  at  his  first  entrance  into  the  cloister ;  that  she  had  some 
weeks  before  arrived  from  Germany  with  a  kinsman,  had  resided  at 
the  German  inn,  and  after  some  days  had  withdrawn  from  there  — 
no  one  knew  whither,  but  some  one  from  Santa  Minerva  would  use 
all  diligence  to  find  her  again.  "  And,  finally,"  said  the  prior,  con- 
cluding his  information  by  bringing  the  most  important  last,  "  some 
one  has  again  undertaken  an  examination  of  the  vaults,  and  has  dis- 
coverd  that  the  wall  separating  the  subterranean  rooms  of  the  cloister 
from  those  of  the  Savelli  Castle  have  been  broken  through,  and 
walled  up  again  with  careless  haste." 

"One  thing  yet  you  have  forgotten  to  mention,  worthy  father," 
added  Father  Eustachius;  "that  is,  that  Brother  Alessio  has  become 
sick  of  a  fever,  which  seems  to  have  its  foundation  more  in  an 
excitement  or  anxiety  of  mind  or  a  suffering  dread  than  in  any  other 
cause." 

"The  lay  brother  Alessio  ?  "  asked  the  Inquisitor. 

"He  was  intrusted  with  the  service  of  the  German  count,"  added 
Father  Eustachius. 

"That  is  remarkable ;   you   may   investigate  what  is  the    matter 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  303 

with  him,  Eustachius,"  replied  Padre  Geronimo,  while  he  seated 
himself  upon  a  stone  bench  under  the  old  olive  tree  which  tradition 
asserted  Saint  Dominicus  himself  had  planted.  "But,"  he  con- 
tinued, "it  is  not  strange,  what  you  inform  me  of  the  penetrated 
wall.  How  could  it  all  have  been  possible  without  that  ?  It  was 
just  a  long  prearranged  plan,  in  which  two  strong  and  clever 
men  have  labored  to  each  other's  hand.  From  one  side  they 
have  caused  that  dividing  wall  to  be  broken  through ;  from  the  other, 
under  the  pretext  of  searching  for  the  treasures  of  antiquity,  they 
have  built  for  themselves  a  way  into  our  vaults " 

"  What  are  you  saying,  Padre  Geronimo  ? "  exclaimed  the  prior,  in 
astonishment. 

The  exercise-master  only  smiled;  it  was  only  what  he  had  long 
suspected. 

"So,"  continued  the  Inquisitor,  "they  have  forced  their  way  in, 
and  set  the  German  count  free.  In  the  same  hour  of  the  night, 
the  Countess  Corradina  has  come  hither  from  the  side  of  the  castle, 
prepared  for  flight ;  Livio  Savelli  has  surprised  them,  has  opposed 
her  flight  with  the  German,  and  the  accomplices  of  the  two  fugi- 
itves  have  choked  him.  Thus  it  has  happened ;  it  can  only 
have  happened  thus.  I  see  through  it  all ! " 

The  prior  nodded. 

"Yes  ;  it  must  have  been  so  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "If  we  could  only 
succeed  in  getting  hold  of  this  malefactor,  this  German  count  ! " 

"This  malefactor,  this  German  count,  has  done  something  that  is 
only  natural;  he  has  sought  his  liberty,"  responded  Padre  Geronimo; 
"  perhaps  only  allowed  himself  led  into  liberty  by  those  who  acted 
for  him.  The  wicked  ones  are  those  who,  insolently  and  sacrilegi- 
ously, have  forced  their  way  into  our  sacred  precincts,  not  those 
who  have  fled  from  them." 

"Well,  yes,"  said  the  prior;  "and  they " 

"And  over  them  we  have  no  power,"  said  Padre  Geronimo, 
interrupting  him  ;  "they  stand,  at  present,  too  high  for  us  to  do  well 
in  stretching  out  our  hand  against  them." 

"  Too  high  ?  Who  in  Rome  or  in  the  world  can  stand  so  high 
that  you,  worthy  brother,  are  not  allowed  to  call  him  before  your 
judgment-seat,  even  though  he  were  an  anointed  king? " 

"  Of  course,"  answered  the  Inquisitor,  "  we  are  invested  with  all 
rights  and  all  power ;  there  are  wanting  to  us  neither  laws  accord- 
ing to  which  to  pass  sentence,  nor  arms  with  which  to  execute  it. 


304  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

But  there  is  also  no  lack  of  wisdom  which  says  to  us  when  it  is 
time  to  let  those  laws  rest,  to  let  those  arms  lie  unused,  and  to  keep 
ourselves  silent  until  the  hour  for  action  has  come." 

The  Inquisitor  might  possess  this  wisdom  ;  but  to  the  prior,  that 
of  understanding  his  reasons  was  wanting. 

"  But  I  pray  you,  Padre  Geronimo,"  he  said,  "  if  we  may  not 
punish  that  which  happened  last  night,  or  let  it  go  unnoticed  of  our 
own  accord,  it  is  all  over  with  our  authority  and  all  the  hitherto 
wholesome  dread  which  the  Sant  Uffizio " 

Padre  Geronimo  made  with  his  hand  a  motion  of  warding  off. 

"Don't  be  concerned  about  that,"  he  said.  "'Raro  antecedentem 
scelestum  deseruit  pede  pcena  claudo?  writes  even  Horace,  the  heathen 
poet." 

"But  these  offenders  who  stand  so  high,"  remarked  the  prior; 
"  who  should  they  be  ?  " 

"  Of  these  offenders,   one  is   Master  Raphael  Santi,"  said  the 
Inquisitor. 

"  Raphael  Santi,  the  great  master  from  Urbino  ? "  exclaimed  the 
prior. 

"He,"  replied  Padre  Geronimo, — "no  other  than  he.  That  Ger- 
man monk  of  whom  the  talk  was,  who  is  named  Fra  Martino,  -and 
who  is  of  a  heretical  spirit  through  and  through,  has  had  some  inter- 
course with  Master  Raphael ;  for  what  other  purpose,  pray,  but  to  in- 
duce him  to  make  the  excavations  through  which  all  that  has  hap- 
pened has  first  become  possible.  For  certainly  the  gate  of  the 
castle  over  there  was  too  well  locked  and  guarded  for  an  entrance 
from  that  side  to  have  seemed  possible  to  them.  So  just  as  the 
Countess  Corradina  has  stood  on  one  side,  Master  Santi  has  stood  on 
the  other,  to  dig  under  our  feet  this  mine  of  wickedness.  I  see 
through  that  only  too  well ;  and  you,  worthy  brother,  will  now  see 
through  my  motives  when  I  say,  Do  not,  in  the  first  place,  let 
this  German  monk  escape  your  eye,  and  follow  the  road  which  he 
traverses ;  but  against  the  others,  let  us  not  act  to-day,  nor  to- 
morrow, but  when  the  time  shall  come." 

The  prior  nodded  understandingly,  and  Father  Eustachius  said:  — 

"You  are  right,  Padre  Geronimo.  Perhaps  over  this  Raphael,  who 
is  a  noisy  fool  and  heathen,  as  are  all  these  art  folk,  this  San  Gallo, 
and  Buonarroti,  and  Bramante,  this  whole  sect  of  Plato,  will  also  yet 
come  the  turning  about  and  enlightening." 

Padre  Geronimo  shook  his  head. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  305 

"Let  us  hope,"  he  said,  "that  soon  something  else  will  come  over 
them, —  the  wrath  of  our  Holy  Father.  And  it  wzY/come  upon  them. 
The  Holy  Father  does  not  understand  that  one  may  jest  with  him, 
and  they,  these  masters,  are  haughty  and  overbearing,  and  will  risk 
everything.  Just  see  how  they  stride  about  here,  Santi  like  a  prince 
with  the  retinue  of  his  court.  They  say  he  also  intends  to  have  a 
princely  palace  built  in  the  Borgo.  And  Michael  Angelo  Buonarroti, 
indeed !  When  he  comes  stalking  past,  with  his  broad  ox-head  and 
the  shoulders  of  a  wood-carrier,  alone  and  with  clownish  bearing,  one 
might  think  he  looks  upon  the  world  as  if  it  is  a  bad  block  of  marble, 
without  value  till  his  chisel  may  hew  it  right !  And  has  he  not 
already  once  defied  the  Holy  Father,  and  been  obliged  to  save  him- 
self by  a  hasty  flight  to  Florence  and  Venice  ?  Such  an  hour  of 
anger  and  of  disfavor  will  sooner  or  later  come  over  that  other  one, 
him  of  Urbino.  Then  will  the  time  have  come  for  us  to  talk  with 
him  and  his  whole  crowd  about  Plato.  The  church  forgets  nothing. 
If  from  the  protection  of  those  who  have  become  intoxicated  from 
the  sinful  cup  of  their  '  beauty,'  they  are  too  powerful  for  us  to-day, 
San  Dominico's  holy  torch  burns  yet  farther  in  stillness,  and  at 
some  future  time  it  will  throw  its  enlightening  rays  down  into  the 
writing-room  of  the  Platonic  thinkers,  and  the  workshop  of  these 
artists, — into  all  these  armories  of  the  Devil !  Go,  my  brethren, —  go 
now;  they  are  ringing  for  the  vigils.  Go  and  pray  that  the  hour 
may  come." 

The  prior  and  the  exercise-master  departed.  Padre  Geronimo, 
however,  remained  yet  longer,  sitting  meditatively  upon  the  stone 
bench  under  the  olive  tree  of  the  great  saint.  Desponding  thoughts 
came  over  him.  Had  it  really  come  so  far  that  the  penal  power  of 
the  church  was  not  free, —  that  it  could  no  longer  seize  upon  one  who 
seemed  to  it  guilty  ?  Had  the  sons  of  San  Dominico  to  make  them- 
selves reproaches  that  they  exercised  their  office  too  idly  and  negli- 
gently, and  therefore  the  blossoms  of  sin  stood  so  flourishing  in  the 
world  ?  Was  it  on  that  account  that  everything  that  called  itself 
cultivated  had  fallen  away  from  the  faith,  despised  the  sacraments, 
and  danced  about  the  golden  calf  of  classic  heathenism  ?  Did  they, 
on  this  account,  ridicule  the  doctrine  of  the  church  concerning  hell 
and  purgatory,  and  swear,  according  to  Pliny,  that  there  is  no  differ- 
ence between  souls  of  men  and  those  of  beasts  ?  " 

Padre  Geronimo  became  absorbed  in  meditation.  It  was  clear  to 
him  something  must  happen  contrary  to  this  condition  of  things. 


306  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

The  church  had  let  her  two  punishing  arms  fall  asleep,  and  she  must 
lift  them  up.  Every  force  calling  itself  infallible  needs  these  arms 
to  maintain  itself.  It  needs  censorship  for  the  minds  and  the  sword 
for  the  bodies.  The  Inquisition  is  no  mere  outgrowtJi  of  an  infallible 
church;  it  is  a  consequence,  a  necessary  consequence  of  tJie  principle,  and 
will  always  be  there  again  so  soon  as  the  circumstances  of  the  time 
make  it  possible.  Behind  the  infallible  and  absolute  power  of  princes 
stands  the  traitor's  gallows  ;  behind  the  infallible  church,  the  fune- 
ral-pyre. 

"  But,"  Padre  Geronimo  asked  himself,  "  was  it  enough,  as  things 
stood  to-day,  if  San  Dominico's  sons  protect  themselves,  and  swing 
their  torches  over  the  great  orgies,  the  'Platonic  feast  of  souls'? 
Must  there  not  be  created  near  the  power  which  judged  and  pun- 
ished, a  new  one,  which  also  essentially  subjugated  souls  ?  Should 
it  not  be  just  as  it  was  when,  against  the  great  apostasy  of  souls  in 
the  Albigensian  times,  there  were  drawn  into  the  field  two  powers* 
Arnold,  the  legate,  and  Simon  von  Montfort,  the  general  ?  Could  an 
order,  one  of  the  oldest  orders  at  that,  be  looked  out  to  take  charge 
of  this  mission  ?  Was  there  one  in  a  condition  to  march  out  against 
culture  with  equal  armor,  against  the  science  of  the  learned  with 
knowledge  ?  No,  no  ;  there  was  none.  If  the  lion  of  St.  Dominicus 
drew  out  to  the  contest,  a  serpent  must  be  near  him  to  give  him  aid ; 
and  this  serpent  was  not  there  in  the  ark  of  the  hierarchy.  A  greater 
charmer  must  throw  his  staff  upon  the  ground,  like  the  magician  of 
Pharaoh,  out  of  which  must  proceed  an  entirely  new  serpent,  one 
never  before  seen. 

Padre  Geronimo  clung  to  this  thought,  which,  after  thirty  years, 
was  to  find  its  fulfillment,  not  through  the  initiation  of  a  great  wiz- 
ard, but  through  that  of  a  Spanish  knight-errant,*  who,  with  the 
comprehensive  and  tragic  fanaticism  of  Don  Quixote  for  Donna  von 
Toboso,  devoted  himself  to  the  service  of  Donna  Infallibility ;  and 
to  him  the  world  is  indebted  if  since  then,  in  the  mental  crop  of 
mankind,  in  the  fruitful  valleys  of  science,  an  injurious  insect,  a 
black  grain-bug,  has  been  committing  ravage. 

Padre  Geronimo  at  length  arose.  The  twilight  had  settled  down, 
and  out  of  some  windows  of  the  neighboring  Savelli  castle  one  saw 
the  bright  glimmer  of  light  force  its  way ;  also  a  low,  swelling 
choral  song  of  monks  became  perceptible :  it  came  out  of  the 
chamber  in  which  the  body  of  Livio  Savelli  lay  in  state. 

*  Ignatius  Loyola,  founder  of  the  Jesuits. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

CORRADINA. 

|N  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  Brother  Martin  passed 
through  the  Porta  del  Popolo,  down  the  Flaminian  Way, 
to  the  villa  of  Signer  Callisto. 

When  he  knocked  at  the  gate  in  the  wall  shutting  off 
the  villa  from  the  road,  there  appeared  an  old  gardener,  who  shoved 
him  back.  "  No  one  is  at  home,"  he  said ;  "  Signer  Callisto  has  gone 
on  a  journey."  Only  upon  his  urgent  request  to  speak  with  the  mis- 
tress, did  the  old  man  conclude  to  announce  him. 

Now  soon,  thereupon,  Signor  Callisto  himself  appeared  in  the  re- 
opening door. 

"  I  guessed  that  it  was  you,  Fra  Martino  !  "  he  said.  "  Step  in 
quickly ;  it  is  not  necessary  that  any  one  should  see  us." 

After  Brother  Martin  had  entered,  the  door  was  again  secured  by 
a  heavy  bolt. 

Brother  Martin's  eye,  as  he  was  walking  through  the  garden  at 
Callisto's  side,  rested  upon  a  picture  of  great  beauty.  Behind  him, 
behind  Monte  Mario,  the  sun  was  going  down.  From  the  reflection 
of  the  evening  glow,  the  eastern  sky  before  him  was  overspread  with 
indescribably  beautiful  tints  of  rose  and  violet,  and  of  the  finest 
blending  of  green  and  gold.  Upon  the  background  of  this  ravishing 
play  of  colors  arose  the  " parva  domus"  \  and  upon  the  pergola  of 
this  charming,  green-entwined  building  sat,  with  arm  resting  upon 
the  parapet,  a  female  form,  whose  contour,  full  of  grace,  was  de- 
lineated upon  the  roseate  surface. 

It  was  Corradina,  who,  her  chin  supported  upon  her  hand,  was 
gazing  upon  the  sinking  sunlight  and  the  purple  glow  of  the  golden, 
flaming  evening  sky. 

When  Callisto  had  led  the  monk  up  to  her  she  cordially  reached 
him  her  hand. 

"You  are  the    man,"   she  said,    "of  whom   Count    Egino  would 

307 


308  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

have  me  receive  a  castigatory  sermon.  I  hope,  though,  the  courage 
to  blame  us  will  fail  you  when  you  see  in  what  trouble  we  are.  Have 
you  learned  anything  of  the  poor  German  girl  who  showed  us  the  way 
to  rescue  ?  " 

"  I  have  spent  part  of  to-day  with  her,  and  I  come  from  her,  count- 
ess," replied  Brother  Martin. 

"  And  in  what  condition  is  she  ?  " 

"  Not  good,  I  fear,  for  she  is  very  weak." 

"  How  you  alarm  me  !     Has  she  a  physician  ?    Has  she  a  nurse  ?" 

"Both." 

"God  be  with  the  poor  girl !  If  I  could  go  to  her  —  if  I  dared  to 
go  !  But  I  dare  not,  truly  !  Upon  her  no  suspicion  will  fall  ;  no  one 
will  think  of  her, —  of  her  or  the  dreadful  man  with  the  strength  of  an 
ox  who  accompanied  her.  After  me  they  will  put  out  spies  at  every 
corner.  I  dare  not  take  a  step  out  of  this  villa." 

"  No  ;  you  dare  not  do  it,"  remarked  Callisto, — "  not  at  the  risk  of 
your  life  !  Believe  me,  the  Germans  are  well  provided  for  by  their 
worthy  Frau  Giulietta,  and  no  one  suspects  them  there.  The  only 
thing  you  can  do  for  them  is  to  endanger  them  by  no  approach,  or 
even  message." 

"I  understand  that,  Signer  Callisto;  but  you," — she  turned  to 
Brother  Martin, — "do  not  tell  Count  Egino  that  she  is  in  such  a  bad 
condition.  He  also  lies  prostrated  with  fever,  which  has  returned 
violently  in  consequence  of  the  excitement  of  night  before  last ;  he 
needs  indulgence !  " 

"  I.  will  obey  you,  countess." 

She  arose,  and  beckoned  to  Brother  Martin.  He  followed  her  with 
the  lawyer  into  the  sitting-room  adjoining  the  pergola.  There  she 
showed  him  through  an  open  door  into  a  second  bright  and  beautiful 
room,  into  which  the  purple  evening  light  of  the  western  heavens 
threw  its  full  splendor.  Egino  lay  upon  a  couch,  half  enveloped  with 
a  coverlet.  Joyously  he  extended  his  right  hand  to  Brother  Martin. 

"  Brother  Martin,  how  fine  that  you  have  come !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"Is  it  not  true  that  you  are  rejoiced  to  find  me  alive  and  at  liberty, — 
rejoiced  as  a  true  friend?  Of  course  you  find  me  a  little  sick  and 
weak,  but  not  bad  ;  to-morrow,  day  after  to-morrow,  the  old  strength 
will  return.  Bring  me  good  news  from  Irmgard,  and  I  will  throw 
from  me  all  care,  in  order  to  become  well.  Do  you  look  at  me  ques- 
tioningly  and  in  wonder,  Brother  Martin?  You  believe  just  anxiety 
must  kill  me, —  anxiety  about  my  noble  lady,  the  Countess  Corradina, 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  309 

and  her  destiny,  and  the  fearful  situation  in  which  even  I,  no  one  but 
myself,  have  brought  her  through  my  passionate  action  ;  that  peni- 
tence, torturing  of  conscience  on  her  account  must  not  let  me 
breathe  ?  Ah !  you  do  not  know  her,  Brother  Martin  ;  you  do  not 
know  with  what  kindly  words  she  has  comforted  and  quieted  me ! 
You  do  not  know  with  what  graciousness  she  condescends  to  me, 
most  needy  one  that  I  am,  and  tells  me  that  she  is  not  angry  with 
me;  that  she  receives  what  has  happened  quietly  and  calmly  as  a  dis- 
pensation of  Heaven  to  lead  her  out  of  a  far  more  dreadful  condition 
into  liberty  and  independence.  You  do  not  know " 

Corradina  now  stepped  up,  and  placing  her  hand  upon  Egino's 
arm,  she  said  :  — 

"Count  Egino,  you  dare  not  talk  so  much  ;    do  you  hear  ?" 

"  You  are  right,  Countess,  and  I  obey.  But  Fra  Martino  will  be 
eager  to  hear  our  story." 

"Then  I  will  tell  it  to  him,  if  you  wish  him  to  know  it ;  but  in  the 
meantime  you  must  listen  in  silence,  without  interrupting  me  with  a 
word.  Do  you  promise  that  ?  " 

"I  promise  to  obey  every  word  of  yours  to  the  end  of  my  life, 
Corradina,  my  noble  lady !  "  replied  Egino,  drawing  her  hand  to  his 
lips. 

"Well,  then,  seat  yourself,  Fra  Martino,"  said  Corradina,  while 
she  seated  herself  upon  the  foot  of  Egino's  couch. 

Martin  took  his  place  upon  one  of  the  high-backed  chairs  standing 
around. 

Signor  Callisto  brought  a  bowl  with  some  cooling  potion,  and 
placed  it  upon  a  little  table  close  to  Egino's  couch.  Then  he  went 
out,  as  Corradina  had,  on  yesterday,  given  him  an  account  of  the 
whole  story  of  her  flight.  Had  he  been  aware  that  the  countess  was 
upon  the  point  of  relating  to  them,  not  only  the  experience  through 
which  she  had  been  led  into  his  house,  but  her  whole  life-history,  so 
that  Egino  might  now  hear  it,  he  would  certainly  not  have  shut  him- 
self out  from  the  circle  of  those  remaining  behind.  But  Corradina 
did  not  detain  him.  She  sat  erect  with  her  hands  folded  in  her  lap, 
turning  her  wonderfully  beautiful  countenance  to  the  glowing  sky- 
light ;  while  Brother  Martin,  tired,  and  still  in  suspense,  had  sunk 
back  against  the  cushioned  back  of  his  chair,  and  the  sick  man  had 
supported  upon  his  arm  his  blond  head,  with  his  glowing  eyes 
directed  upon  Corradina. 

"  If  your  German  friend,"  began  Corradina,  with  a  look  as  of  in- 


3io  LUTHER    IN   ROME, 

quiry  resting  upon  the  young  monk,  "is  to  judge  of  my  actions,  he 
must  know  everything  that  has  led  me  where  he  now  sees  me,  in 
this  retreat,  hidden,  fleeing,  poor  and  outcast.  He  must  know  how 
I  grew  up ;  how  I  came  to  years  of  maturity ;  what  I  experienced ; 
what  I  have  had  to  struggle  through  up  to  this  hour.  I  grew  up, 
without  a  mother,  in  the  old,  large,  and  ruined  castle  of  Anticoli,  at 
the  side  of  my  father ;  a  severe  and  hard  man,  who,  through  his  nar- 
rations of  the  power  and  elevation  of  our  great  and  once  world-ruling 
race,  of  the  deeds  of  those  who  were  the  most  illustrious  bearers  of 
its  great  and  incomparable  renown,  did  everything  to  make  me  proud 
and  self-conscious.  He  could  not  do  this  without,  at  the  same  time, 
bringing  into  my  young  soul  a  great  bitterness,  through  the  contrast 
of  these  reminiscences,  with  the  needy  and  ruined  condition  around 
me,  —  with  the  restricted  circumstances  of  our  house.  Fortunately 
there  lay  an  antidote  in  the  peculiar  bitterness  of  his  heart  over 
these  circumstances.  The  soul-weaknesses  of  parents  are  seldom  the 
inheritance  of  the  children ;  they  only  early  take  an  example  from 
their  parents.  My  father  was  not  poor.  Our  possessions  were 
large,  but  they  were  encumbered  with  debt.  Since  the  great  invasion 
of  Rome,  instituted  a  hundred  years  ago  by  the  Colonnas,  with  whom 
we  have  almost  always  been  allied,  our  house  had  suffered  a  great 
deal.  Paolo  Orsini,  the  Pope's  commander-in-chief,  had  taken  my 
forefather,  Corradino  di  Antiochia,  prisoner,  and  had  him  executed, 
and  much  of  our  possessions  had  then  been  taken  from  our  people. 
My  father  had  a  Savelli  for  a  wife.  Her  estate  had  served  to  liqui- 
date the  debts,  to  lift  again  mortgages  and  alienations,  to  bring  the 
estate  into  better  condition.  The  utmost  economy  sustained  my 
father  in  this  struggle,  in  which  all  his  thoughts  and  all  his  activity 
were  engaged ;  for'  our  house  did  not  become  more  habitable,  our 
number  of  servants  greater,  our  table  better  furnished,  our  gate  more 
frequently  opened  to  guests,  as  we  became  richer.  When  I  was 
eight  years  old  my  mother  had  died,  and  my  entire  companionship 
consisted,  from  that  on,  of  an  old  nurse  and  a  very  young  goat-shep- 
herdess, whom  my  father  had  given  to  me  as  a  chambermaid.  His 
daily  company  was  Fra  Niccolo,  the  house  chaplain,  who  instructed 
me  in  reading  and  writing,  and  then  in  Latin,  while  my  father 
taught  me  German.  He  almost  always  spoke  German  with  me : 
speaking  German  was  a  tradition  in  our  house.  So  I  grew  up.  Of 
the  world  I  saw  and  heard  nothing,  only  what  was  related  to  me  by 
rare,  individual  guests  who  came  out  of  it  and  took  lodging  with  us ; 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  311 

they  were  mostly  those  belonging  to  the  house  of  Savelli.  As  I 
said  before,  my  mother  was  a  Savelli  of  Aricia.  She,  however,  who 
had  brought  to  our  house  new  prosperity,  desired  that  this  wealth 
should  at  some  time  flow  back  to  her  house,  and  that  I  should  be 
wedded  to  one  of  the  sons  of  her  cousin,  the  duke.  I  was,  indeed, 
the  only  child,  the  only  heiress ;  she  had  never  presented  to  my  father 
a  son.  So  it  was  decided  that  I  should  marry  Luca  ;  my  mother  was 
still  resolved  upon  it.  If  Luca  Savelli  came  to  us,  he  called  me  his 
'spouse,'  even  at  an  age  when  this  'spouse'  was  not  much  larger 
than  the  largest  of  her  dolls.  We  played  together,  and  quarreled, 
and  fought :  although  he  was  much  older  than  I,  he  occasionally  got 
the  worst  of  these  encounters.  I  believe  he  hated  me  on  that  ac- 
count, just  as  I  found  him  intolerable.  I  had  a  playmate  who 
pleased  me  much  better ;  he  was  of  my  own  age,  and  instead  of 
calling  me  'spouse,'  as  Luca  did,  and  wishing  to  rule  me,  he  was 
intent  upon  doing  everything  I  wished,  and  granting  to  me  every- 
thing that  I  suggested.  He  was  the  brother  of  my  chambermaid, 
and  as  poor  as  she,  and  guarded  the  goats  upon  the  cliffs  and  in  the 
bushes  around  our  castle.  His  name  was  Mario,  and  he  had  eyes  of 
wonderful  beauty,  large,  and  dark,  and  soft,  like  those  of  a  young  girl. 
Angela  and  Mario  and  I,  we  formed  as  peaceful  a  company  for  play 
as  only  brothers  and  sisters  could.  I  know  not  which  I  loved 
better,  Angela  or  Mario.  My  father  troubled  himself  little  about 
me.  In  fine  weather  he  let  me  tumble  around  out  of  doors ;  in  bad 
weather  he  let  me  take  refuge  in  the  parlor,  where  stood  a  great  old 
chest,  in  which  were  preserved  manuscripts,  parchments,  and  books, 
old  as  well  as  new.  I  read  first  in  the  new  ones — secretly,  for 
Fra  Niccolo  must  not  see  it.  He  called  all  new  books  homilies 
of  the  Devil  and  poison  for  the  soul ;  and  he  was  right.  These  new 
books  were  novels  and  stories  of  wanton  import :  as  that  poison 
which  dilates  the  pupil  of  the  eye  and  sharpens  the  vision,  it  sharp- 
ened my  eye  for  things  I  should  not  have  perceived  at  that  age.  I 
grew  upon  it.  Guests  now  appeared  more  frequently  at  the  Castle 
of  Anticoli,  and  among  them  young  men,  relatives,  friends  of  the 
Savelli,  whom  they  brought  with  them.  There  was  a  cardinal 
among  them,  a  relative  of  the  Colonna  of  Palliano,  with  whom  Livio 
Savelli  was  to  become  connected  by  marriage.  Livio  brought  him  to 
our  house.  Cardinal  Rafael  was  archbishop  in  one  city,  bishop  in 
two,  had  abbeys  and  benefices,  and  was  not  yet  thirty  years  of  age ; 
but  he  was  clever,  eloquent,  even  learned,  and  they  said  he  would  yet 


312  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

become  Pope.  With  all  this  he  sued  earnestly  for  my  favor ;  but 
only  too  soon  I  understood  his  passionate  nature,  and  the  fire  in  his 
eyes  when  he  spoke  to  me,  and  I  shrank  from  his  approaches.  I 
could  not  refuse  a  costly  present  which  he  brought  to  me  from  Rome, 
one  day  ;  my  father  did  not  permit  it.  I  could  not  speak  to  my  father, 
I  would  not  speak  to  Luca,  openly,  about  the  cardinal's  advances. 
But  I  avoided  him ;  I  fled  from  him  now.  Fra  Niccolo  reproached 
me  for  it.  He  praised  for  me  Rafael's  high  rank  and  merit ;  he 
brought  to  me  secretly  a  letter  from  the  cardinal.  I  was  horrified  at 
this  behavior  on  the  part  of  the  pious  brother  whom  I  had  respected. 
While  I  tore  this  letter  in  pieces,  I  had  a  feeling  as  if  the  earth  were 
giving  away  under  me,  —  as  if  a  flood  of  hatred  came  over  me  against 
these  priests,  against  these  men.  In  the  presence  of  Fra  Niccolo  I 
stamped  the  pieces  of  the  letter  with  my  feet.  The  cardinal  did  not 
allow  himself  frightened  off.  He  pursued  me  as  before.  I  stole 
away  from  the  castle  as  often  as  I  could  when  he  was  there.  I  com- 
plained of  my  trouble  to  Angela,  and  Angela  related  it  to  her 
brother  ;  and  when  I  next  saw  Mario,  he  swore  that,  as  soon  as  the 
cardinal  should  hunt  again  with  Livio  in  the  forest  of  Anticoli,  as  he 
was  wont  to  do,  he  would  crack  his  head  with  a  stone  out  of  his 
pouch  with  his  shepherd's  sling.  Fra  Niccolo  surprised  us,  Mario 
and  myself,  in  innocent,  confidential  chat.  He  may  have  long  been 
suspicious  of  my  intercourse  with  Mario,  the  foul  man.  He  threat- 
ened me  with  the  wrath  of  my  father.  I  answered  him  defiantly,  and 
turned  my  back  upon  him.  Still,  he  did  not  carry  out  his  threat ;  but 
he  must  have  presented  the  matter  to  Rafael,  for  the  cardinal  took 
it  upon  himself  next  day  to  make  me  the  bitterest  and  most  passion- 
ate reproaches  for  throwing  myself  away,  —  for  rambling  about  like 
something  wild,  and  having  intercourse  with  a  barefooted  boy,  as  if 
he  were  my  equal.  He  dared  to  inveigh  against  me  as  if  he  had  a 
right.  Aroused,  I  cut  him  short.  '  And  what  does  it  concern  you,' 
I  cried,  'if  I  converse  with  my  playmates,  and  who  my  playmates 
are?  If  you  were  even  Luca,  who  calls  himself  my  spouse —  I  hate 
him  not  much  less  than  I  hate  you  —  but  from  him  it  would  be  less 
mad!  But  you  — you  are  nothing  to  me,  nothing  but  an  object  of 
abhorrence  !  I  hate  you,  —  I  despise  you  !  To  me,  Mario's  honest 
eyes  are  dearer  than  all  the  cardinals  in  the  world,  with  Luca  in- 
cluded, who  is  none,  but  deserves  to  be." 

"  Rafael,    mute    with    astonishment    and    pale    with   anger,    left 
me  alone.     On  the  very  next   day  he  took  his  departure.     But  he 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  313 

had  taken  care  to  revenge  himself.  It  fills  me  with  horror  to 
tell  you  how.  For  that  which  I  had  said  to  his  face,  he  made 
poor  Mario  suffer.  He  was  fallen  upon  by  bandits,  and  they  thrust 
his  eyes  out.* 

"  That  is  dreadful !  "  here  put  in  Egino. 

Corradina,  as  if  to  appease  him,  laid  her  hand  upon  his  uplifted 
arm,  while  her  glance  maintained  the  same  direction,  —  straight 
out  into  the  glowing  evening  sky.  Brother  Martin  had  raised 
himself  erect,  and  then  bowed  forward ;  propping  his  hands  upon  his 
knees,  he  stared  at  the  narrator. 

"Mario  is  dead,"  she  said;  and  then  added,  with  a  painful  sigh: 
"  I  had  not  loved  Mario ;  never,  except  in  dreams,  had  the  thought 
come  to  me  that  I  could  be  his  wife.  But  my  grief  for  him  was  as 
great  as  if  I  had  loved  him,  and  all  the  power  of  rebellion  in  me 
became  aroused,  and  mingled  itself  in  this  grief  with  a  bitterness 
I  cannot  describe.  From  this  day  on,  I  was  as  if  transformed. 
I  became  fond  of  solitude,  shy  of  people  ;  I  secluded  myself  all 
day  long  with  the  books  of  my  father,  among  which  I  now  began  to 
prefer  the  ancient  ones,  the  chronicles  containing  accounts  of  my 
forefathers,  to  those  which  had  before  kept  me  occupied.  I  sent 
Angela  from  me,  because  I  could  not  endure  that  her  eyes 
should  look  upon  me,  for  they  were  the  eyes  of  Mario.  I  began 
to  live  in  a  world  quite  for  myself  alone,  which  was  peopled 
with  gentle,  motherly  women  and  noble,  strong,  knightly  men, — 
creatures  of  the  imagination  ;  to  whom  I  gave  the  names  of  my 
ancestors  found  in  the  old  history  books  and  annals, — the  names 
of  Manfred,  Enzio,  Constanze,  Beatrix,  Isabella,  Elizabeth,  Sibylla. 
I  dreamed  myself  in  the  midst  of  these  j  I  saw  myself  standing 
near  them  and  talking  with  them  ;  my  young  wisdom  gave  them 
advice,  which  being  followed  would  most  certainly  have  guarded 
them  against  their  tragic  fates,  if  they  would  only  have  listened 
to  me  in  my  youthfulness.  Oh  !  certainly  then  would  Corradina 
have  crushed  to  the  earth  the  bloodhound  of  Anjou,  and  Manfred 
would  not  have  been  beaten  by  Benevent !  And  in  an  old 
manuscript  proceeding  from  my  grandfather,  from  him  who  was  the 
dearest  and  most  beloved  of  all,  from  Frederic  II.,  I  buried  myself, 
and  read  it  again  and  again,  and  brooded  over  it,  and  inquired 
about  separate  places  and  sentences,  whether  the  thought  I 
placed  there  was  really  that  which  stood  there ;  I  racked  my  brains 

*Compare  this  with  a  similar  deed  in  Roscoe's  "  Life  of  Leo  X.,"  Vol  I.  p.  431  of  the  German 
translation,  and  Gilbert's  "  Lucretia  Borgia,"  p.  279,  of  the  German  edition.  (Leipzig,  1870.) 


3i4  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

over  it,  uncertain,  anxious,  fearing  that  it  was  so,  and  still  again 
exulting  that  it  was  so ;  for  these  passages  and  sentences  were 
alarming  to  my  childish  faith,  but  they  gave  me  revenge  upon 
the  cardinal,  upon  Fra  Niccolo,  upon  the  men  around  me.  There 
lay  therein  the  thoughts,  the  most  secret  thoughts,  of  a  man 
who  surveyed  the  illusions  surrounding  his  contemporaries,  as  a 
mountain-peak  the  mist  and  vapor  of  the  valley ;  thoughts  and  truths, 
like  the  mountain-brook  coming  down  from  the  heights  clear  and 
crystal  pure,  in  order,  ever  roaring  more  loudly,  to  become  by 
degrees  the  mighty  waters,  —  the  broad,  flowing  stream  which  has 
become  irresistible  in  his  course,  and  widely  masters  the  land." 

"  And  what  manuscript  was  that  ?  "  here  asked  Brother  Martin. 

"  I  will  yet  tell  you  about  that ;  let  me  go  on  now,"  answered 
Corradina.  "When  I  became  torn  away  from  my  solitude,  and 
forced  into  intercourse  with  men,  I  showed  a  disposition  entirely 
changed.  I  was  no  more  talkative,  loving  harmless  chat,  still  timid 
and  bashful,  and  my  composure  easily  disturbed  by  a  word,  as  I  was 
before.  I  had  become  monosyllabic,  but  more  certain ;  I  spoke 
little,  but  that  was  what  I  thought  and  held  for  true.  I  learned 
to  dispute,  to  have  courage  with  my  opinions.  He  who  put  him- 
self into  a  war  of  words  with  me  did  not  always  end  it  as  victor ;  and 
since  I  spoke  out  of  the  bitter  feeling  which  filled  me  for  the  men 
around  me,  I  must  very  often  have  been  wounding,  bold,  and  im- 
perative in  my  speech.  And  still  this  appeared  to  offend  no  one ; 
on  the  contrary,  it  was  as  if  one  now,  for  the  first  time,  was  rightly 
intent  upon  showing  me  favor. 

"  When  I  became  nineteen  years  of  age  I  lost  my  father,  after  a 
short  illness  ;  he  spoke,  to  me  still  upon  his  death-bed  of  Luca 
Savelli  as  my  future  husband.  I  would  not  trouble  him,  dying,  by  my 
opposition ;  I  was  silent,  and  submitted,  also,  when  the  Duke  of 
Aricia,  chosen  my  guardian  after  my  father's  death,  ordered  that  I 
live  from  now  on  with  his  daughter-in-law,  Livio  Savelli's  wife,  and 
in  the  world  should  there  become  schooled  and  cultivated.  I  must 
leave  our  castle.  It  was  to  my  spirit  as  if  I  were  taking  leave,  not 
only  of  my  father's  house,  of  all  associations,  of  my  liberty,  it  was 
more  :  it  was  to  me  as  if  I  were  taking  leave  of  myself ;  as  if  I  would 
be  treated  like  some  kind  of  stuff,  a  pleasing  metal,  which  one 
changes  and  pours  into  a  new  shape ;  and  that  I  would  be  turned 
into  a  new  being  and  a  new  appearance  in  Rome,  in  the  castles  of 
the  Savelli  and  Colonna,  in  their  company,  in  their  restless  doing 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  315 

and  living,  that  was  for  me  like  the  life  of  an  entirely  different  kind 
of  people.  And  yet  —  how  did  I  remain  so  entirely  the  same  ;  how 
did  I,  in  this  world  which  repelled  me,  remain  true  to  feeling  and 
thinking  entirely  my  way ;  how  came  a  stubborn  power  of  resistance 
over  me  in  the  midst  of  the  immoral  extravagance  surrounding  me  \ 
Livio's  wife  was  unfaithful  to  her  husband,  and  put  herself  to  no 
trouble  to  conceal  this  from  my  eyes.  Livio,  on  the  contrary,  con- 
ceived a  passion  for  me,  but  he  had  not  the  courage,  or  he  considered 
it  not  prudent,  to  confess  it  openly  to  me  —  he  let  me  guess  it  ;  he 
played  the  part  of  restraining,  mastering  himself,  and  became  his 
brother  Luca's  apologist  to  me.  He  played  a  finely  weighed  game  ! 
He  calculated  how,  when  I  had  become  Luca's  wife,  my  husband 
would  make  me  miserable ;  and  how  then,  in  my  distress,  I  should  be 
obliged  to  fall  into  his  wide-open,  protecting  arms  !  The  more  plainly 
I  gave  Luca  to  understand  my  abhorrence  of  him,  so  much  the  more 
he  treated  me  as  his  own  property, —  his  slave.  We  often  had 
struggles ;  and  then  his  father,  my  guardian,  stepped  between  us, 
and  took  me  into  his  protection  so  excitedly  and  passionately,  that  I 
soon  lost  my  candor  toward  him  also.  Even  he,  even  the  man  of 
fifty,  began  to  woo  me,  and  to  increase  the  despair  with  which  I 
became  filled  in  this  circle,  which  should  have  formed  for  me  the 
protecting  family  circle  !  Fortunately  the  duke  was  shy  of  his  sons ; 
he  feared  Livio,  and  Livio  was  aroused  when  he  made  the  discovery 
that  his  father  had  conceived  the  thought  that  he  would  himself 
make  me  his  wife,  since  I  would  not  have  Luca. 

"Those  were  dreadful  days  for  me,  a  poor  young  creature  who  had 
no  friend,  no  help  upon  earth.  My  servants  had  been  sought  out  by 
the  duke  ;  Livio's  wife  believed  her  duty  toward  me  fulfilled  when 
she  had  imparted  to  me  the  refined  customs  of  society,  and  the  art  of 
clothing  and  adorning  myself  with  taste.  She  jested  over  her  hus- 
band's devotion  to  me  ;  she  called  me  the  marble  princess,  and  took 
delight  in  the  way  in  which  I  rudely  and  sharply  defended  myself 
against  the  men,  whose  passions  I  only  thereby  aroused  and  stimu- 
lated. 

"  How  often  in  those  days  have  I  envied  Angela ;  how  often  have 
I  wished  myself  in  the  place  of  this  girl,  who  was  again  guarding  her 
goats,  barefooted,  upon  the  forest  heights  of  Anticoli ! 

"  Two  years  thus  fled  by ;  we  were  mostly  in  Aricia,  also  in 
Palliano,  or  in  Livio's  castle  at  Albano,  which  the  duke  had  cut  off 
for  him  at  his  marriage ;  occasionally  we  were  here  in  Rome. 


316  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

Finally,  Luca's  increasing  illness  compelled  us  to  a  longer  stay  in 
Rome  ;  and  here  it  was  that  I  declared  my  resolution  to  become  the 
dying  Luca's  wife.  It  seemed  to  me  the  only  way  to  become  free, — 
free  from  the  wooings  of  the  duke,  whom  I  most  feared,  and 
independent  as  a  widow,  to  whom  one  must  give  back  part  of  her 
possessions ;  free  for  the  future  from  the  addresses  of  other  men, 
for  I  hated  them  all.  Luca  died  the  morning  of  the  day  set  for  the 
marriage.  I  still  remained  ready  for  this  marriage.  Livio  insisted 
now,  likewise,  upon  the  ceremony,  with  the  concurrence  of  his  wife, 
who  thought  as  did  he  about  the  intention  of  the  duke.  I  agreed ; 
the  duke  dared  no  opposition  —  and  so  that  occurred  of  which  you 
were  a  witness,  Count  Egino." 

"  You  allowed  yourself  wedded  to  the  dead  ? "  exclaimed  Brother 
Martin,  horrified. 

"  I  allowed  myself  wedded  to  the  dead  !  " 

Brother  Martin  gazed  upon  her.  A  pause  followed.  Egino 
reached  out  his  hand  to  clasp  that  of  Corradina  ;  as  if  absent  mind- 
edly  she  indulged  him,  and  placed  her  right  hand  in  his.  Her  glance 
remained  fixed,  directed  into  the  distance. 

The  monk  supported  his  brow  upon  his  hand,  and  said,  looking  at 
the  floor : — 

"And  then?     Tell  me  all." 

"  Count  Egino  may  relate  to  you  further  how  he  forced  his  way  to 
me ;  how  he  then  fell  into  the  prison  of  the  Dominicans  ;  how  I  then 
found  him  sicker  and  weaker  than  I  had  supposed.  Livio  made  it 
possible  for  me  to  get  into  his  dungeon.  I  was  aware  that  some  kind 
of  a  trick,  a  something  kept  back,  was  lurking  behind  his  goodness 
—  and  still  I  consented.  If  I  should  refuse,  upon  Livio's  suggestion, 
to  go  in  and  lead  Egino  out  of  the  cloister,  there  was  no  other  rescue 
to  be  hoped  for  him  who,  for  my  sake,  had  fallen  into  this  distress. 
When  I  had  led  him  out,  it  was  always  to  be  hoped  that,  through 
prudence  and  courage,  we  would  succeed  in  making  vain  the  artifice, 
in  escaping  the  snare,  in  attaining  to  liberty.  So  I  undertook  it.  I 
found  my  way,  as  it  had  been  described  to  me,  into  Egino's  cell." 

"  Like  an  angel  of  light,  you  came  in  the  night  of  despair,"  ex- 
claimed Egino ;  "  and  if  I  should  die  for  you  ten  times,  I  should  not 
have  repaid  you  the  happiness  of  the  moment  in  which  my  confused 
senses  became  composed, —  began  to  believe  that  it  was  you, — you." 

She  withdrew  from  him  her  hand,  and  placing  it  upon  his  arm,  as 
if  again  quieting  him,  she  continued  :  — 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  317 

"  I  led  him  out.  We  came  into  the  Chapel  of  the  Immured.  What 
happened  there  the  German  maiden  has  already  related  to  you." 

Brother  Martin  nodded  gently  with  his  head. 

"  I  know  what  happened  there,"  he  said. 

"  So  I  may  end  here.  When  we,  following  the  man  who  was  carry- 
ing the  wounded  girl,  found  ourselves  outside  in  the  dark,  narrow 
streets,  we  said  to  ourselves  that  no  one  would  pursue  them,  of  whom 
no  one  knew,  but  would  only  pursue,  spy  out,  and  seek  us  ;  that  we 
should  therefore  owe  it  to  them  to  separate  our  lot  from  theirs,  so  that 
they  might  not,  at  least,  become  endangered ;  that  we  must,  at  any  cost, 
seek  to  get  outside  of  the  gates,  now  while  they  were  not  yet  guarded. 
So  we  separated  ourselves  from  them,  and,  fortunately,  without  being 
detained,  passed  through  the  gate  to  Signer  Callisto's  house,  who 
has  continuously  shown  to  me  good  will  and  kindness,  and  for  whose 
true  friendship  Count  Egino  stood  security.  We  have  not  been  dis- 
appointed in  the  noble  man.  And  so  you  find  us  here." 

"  And  now,"  Corradina  said,  concluding  her  narrative,  "  now, 
Brother  Martin,  ponder  in  your  heart  whether  what  you  have  heard 
is  a  story  of  sin  and  transgression,  or  a  human  destiny,  appointed  by 
God's  paternal  hand,  and  guided  upon  the  road  to  the  goal  whither 
he  willed  to  lead  me.  Tell  us  to-morrow,  for  it  has  grown  late  ;  the 
sun  has  set,  and  the  night  must  find  you  in  your  cloister." 

Brother  Martin  arose. 

"You  are  right,  countess,"  he  said  gently.  "  I  would  also  not  be 
in  a  condition  to  say  to  you  a  word  about  it.  My  soul  is  filled  with 
all  that  these  days  have  brought  to  me,  as  if  a  mountain  load  lay  upon 
me.  Let  me  go.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  snatched  into  a  roaring 
whirlpool.  I  must  get  my  breath  before  I  can  speak." 

He  reached  his  hand  to  both  of  them,  and  passed,  with  difficult 
pace,  through  the  room  and  ante-chamber  to  leave  the  villa. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


A   MONOLOGUE    OF   THE    MONK. 


HEN  Brother  Martin  had  again  reached  the  portal  of  his 
cloister,  and  had  found  admittance,  he  slipped  quietly  and 
noiselessly  into  his  cell.  He  wished  to  be  heard  by 
no  one,  to  be  seen  by  no  one ;  he  wished  to  meet  no  idle 
questions  to  which  he  must  give  answer.  He  locked  the  door  of  his 
cell  and  threw  himself  into  the  chair  at  his  window. 

The  full,  round  face  of  the  moon  was  looking  in. 

Folding  his  hands,  Luther  breathed  deeply  several  times  ;  then  he 
rested  his  temple  upon  his  hand,  and  looking  up  at  the  moon  he 
murmured :  — 

"  Upon  what  a  world  does  this  round  disc,  there,  pour  its  soft, 
peaceful  light !  O  my  God,  upon  what  a  world !  .  As  the  pious 
mother,  earnestly  and  with  astonishment,  looks  into  the  mildly 
heated  countenance  of  her  child,  so  this  face  looks  in  upon  this 
world ! 

"  What  men  !  They  have  the  high,  mild  light  of  heaven,  the 
glittering  stars  there  which  flicker  in  eternally  twinkling  motion, 
as  if  they  would  speak  to  men  in  anxious  excitement,  telling  them 
to  be  good  ;  and  they  have  the  soul-light  beaming  forth  from  the 
pure  doctrine  of  the  gospel !  And  still  they  live  in  darkness,  and 
act  like  robbers  and  murderers. 

"  Into  the  pure,  gushing  fountain  of  the  teaching  of  the  Saviour, 
they  have  thrown  the  dead  carcass  of  their  institutions,  and  no  pure 
mouth  may  any  more  drink  from  this  water.  For  the  sake  of  the 
faith,  they  imprison  one  another,  kill,  and  burn.  The  Devil  has 
passed  by  a  tiger's  den  and  has  hurled  to  them  their  faith,  that  the 
beasts  may  have  something  about  which  to  fight  and  tear  each 
other's  flesh.  In  this  wild  struggle  they  have  beaten  to  death  the 
living  Christ,  and  dark  birds  flutter  about  his  corpse ;  the  raven- 
nature  loves  the  odor  of  a  corpse ! 

3'S 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  319 

"O  Lord,  O  Almighty  God,  who  art  able  to  bring  forth  thy  light- 
nings !  No,  no ;  thy  thunders  have  rolled  enough,  and  they  have 
taken  no  alarm  !  O  thou  who  couldst  tear  thy  sun  from  the  vault  of 
heaven  and  hurl  this  flaming,  primitive  doctrine  under  them,  and 
couldst  cry  to  them,  There,  you  have  light,  and  now  see,  you 
blind  !  " 

Exhausted,  Martin  sank  down.  Never  had  come  out  before  his 
eyes  with  such  affecting  force  the  gaping  contrast  between  the 
world  of  that  time  as  it  was,  and  the  world  as,  according  to  the 
"doctrine,"  it  should  be;  between  the  ruthless  contempt  for  the 
inner  purport  of  the  doctrine,  the  insolent  unconcern  about  its  moral 
precepts,  and  the  violent  cruelty  with  which  they  defended  its  outer 
authority,  its  forms,  the  scaffolding  of  its  hierarchy. 

He  saw  standing  before  him  the  form  of  this  Pope  who  had  shown 
him  out  of  the  door,  and  forbidden  to  him  and  to  mankind  the  right 
of  thinking.  And  near  the  Pope  stood  Padre  Geronimo,  the  execu- 
tioner for  thoughts  ;  and  far  behind  them  was  as  if  a  broad  plain, 
upon  which  the  sins  and  passions  of  mankind,  who  were  not  allowed 
to  think,  were  flying  about  in  a  wild  chaos. 

The  evil,  bitter  doubt,  which  had  already  once  barked  at  him  so 
poisonously,  came  back  more  painfully,  more  goadingly.  It  was  a 
real  misery  that  it  brought  over  the  poor  monk  so  disturbed  within. 
He  had  doubted  the  principle  of  the  whole  system, —  the  fact  of  the 
original  sinfulness  of  human  nature.  Now  there  seized  upon  him  a 
doubt  of  the  power  of  the  entire  theology, —  of  its  ability  to  lead  men 
in  general  to  goodness  and  purity.  In  his  agitation  and  mutiny  he 
could  have  thrust  this  theology,  this  scholasticism,  from  him  with  a 
stroke  of  the  foot ;  he  could  have  seized  it,  shaken  it,  and  would 
have  liked  to  thunder  at  it  these  words  :  — 

"Now  give  me  an  account  of  your  foster-child,  humanity;  to  what 
have  you  brought  it  ?  Are  not  you,  you  yourself  the  serpent  of 
which  you  are  eternally  talking,  which  made  humanity  sinful  and 
wretched  ?  the  serpent  which  the  Lord  condemned  to  creep  upon  its 
belly  and  to  eat  dust  ?  Yes,  you  creep  upon  the  belly ;  you  live  upon 
the  belly ;  and  instead  of  manna  you  eat  dust,  you  black  adder ! 

"Poor,  pitiable  human  race!  You  'race  of  kings  and  priests,' 
to  which  the  Lord  would  exalt  you,  how  have  you  been  trodden 
under  foot  !  If  the  poor  man  should  go  forth  out  of  his  hut  seeking 
food,  and  should  kill  a  wild  animal  of  the  field,  the  master  of  the  soil 
comes  and  says,  'Away;  the  game  is  mine!'  If  he  should  catch 


320  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

a  fish  out  of  the  waters,  another  says  to  him,  '  Away ;  the  waters  are 
mine  ! '  If  he  would  fetch  a  piece  of  wood  out  of  the  forest  to  warm 
himself,  there  would  come  yet  another  to  say,  'Away;  for  to  me 
belongs  the  forest  ! '  If  he  finds  under  the  floor  of  his  hut  a  vein  of 
precious  metal,  that  might  aid  him,  the  lord  of  the  soil  is  again  there, 
and  gives  the  order,  '  Don't  disturb  it ;  it  is  mine.  Mine  is  the 
soil  upon  which  you  stand  ;  mine  the  treasure  under  your  feet ;  mine 
the  bird  flying  through  the  air  over  your  head.'  And  then  if 
the  poor  man,  with  his  need  and  his  misery,  would  flee  for  refuge  to 
his  Christ,  then  comes  Frau  Theology,  the  serpent,  then  comes 
the  church,  and  says  :  '  The  house  of  Christ  is  mine ;  mine  are 
the  mansions  in  the  house  of  the  Father;  mine  are  all  the  favors 
of  the  Lord  ;  and  if  you  want  any  of  them,  then  buy  them  from 
me !  You  have  nothing  upon  the  earth ;  it  must  be,  then,  that 
you  buy  it  from  your  landlord.  You  have  nothing  in  heaven  ;  it  must 
be,  then,  that  you  buy  it  from  me !  I  have  the  keys  to  heaven. 
You  cannot  come  in  unless  you  give  much  gold  for  masses,  offerings, 
indulgences,  and  all  my  goods  ! ' 

"And,  finally,  the  soul  of  the  poor  man  erects  itself  against 
this  order  of  the  world,  and  he  begins  to  ask  himself,  in  his  thoughts, 
about  all  this  compulsory  right.  Then  Frau  Theology  calls  out  to 
him:  'Restrain  yourself;  your  brains  are  mine,  as  your  fields  are 
those  of  your  landlord,  your  forests  those  of  your  prince !  If  you 
think  with  your  brain,  draw  conclusions  with  your  intellect,  you 
trespass  upon  my  territory;  and  as  the  landlord  puts  you  in 
irons  for  the  wild  stag  you  poach,  so  will  I  let  you  be  burned  if  you 
think  ! '  Merciful  God !  the  lot  of  man  has  become  dreadful ;  not,  in- 
deed, for  them,  for  these  priests  who  blaspheme  in  saying  masses, 
for  these  great  ones  doing  what  they  wish,  for  these  cardinals 
like  Rafael  —  they  live  in  joy  and  pleasure,  and  yet  know  how  to  get 
into  heaven !  Heaven  is  for  them  a  great,  ever-enduring  feast.  In 
order  to  be  let  in  they  need  only  to  have  pressed  a  bit  of  gold 
into  the  hand  of  Peter,  the  gatekeeper.  To  them  heaven  is  a  great 
masked  party,  a  mumming  occasion  ;  in  order  to  be  admitted,  one 
needs  only  come  in  a  mask  :  one  draws  on  a  priest's  robe,  or  has  him- 
self buried  in  a  monk's  habit  —  then  Peter  lets  him  in." 

Brother  Martin  threw  his  hands  over  his  face  in  perfect  despair  ; 
he  groaned  aloud,  as  if  in  the  deepest,  most  crushing  pain.  It  was  to 
him  as  if  the  earth  were  giving  way  under  him. 

"It  is  a   great  and   difficult  task,"  he  began  again,  after  a  long 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  321 

pause,  "to  find  the  truth.  But  the  merciful  God  will  assist  me  if  I 
seek  it,  —  seek,  and  keep  on  seeking  to  the  end  of  my  life  !  This, 
however,  dawned  clearly  upon  my  soul  to-day  :  with  this  creed  can 
mankind  not  become  noble,  and  good,  and  happy.  And  in  regard 
to  this  creed,  Lord  Tommaso  Inghirami  was  right  when  he  said, 
'  Religion  has  no  influence  upon  the  morals,  and  the  character, 
and  actions  of  men.'  Was  not  that  what  he  maintained  in  Master 
Santi's  house?  He  was  right,  —  this  belief  cannot  have  it;  this 
belief  that  his  own  innocent  child  must,  by  his  death,  have 
conciliated  a  wrathful,  angry  God  in  order  to  open  the  gate  of 
heaven  to  mankind,  and  then  give  its  doors  to  the  care  of  the 
church,  that  she  might  open  them  to  those  who  come  with  'good 
works.'  No,  no;  only  the  truth  that  Christ  has  come  to  us  in 
the  impulse  of  his  divine  love  to  make  us  good  and  noble 
through  teaching  and  exhortation,  and  that  we  human  beings 
have  beaten  him  to  death  as  a  reward ;  that  we  must  now  conciliate 
him  through  love  and  a  pure  course  of  life  according  to  his 
doctrine, — only  that  can  save.  Not  the  mere  theology  of  the 
.atoning  death  of  Christ,  but  the  teaching  of  the  atoning  life  of 
man ! " 

With  such  thoughts  the  German  monk  walked  up  and  down  in  his 
cell.  He  did  not  perceive  how  the  night  sank  deeper  and  deeper ; 
he  did  not  hear,  as,  now  far,  now  near,  now  in  this,  now  in  that  clois- 
ter, the  bells  were  rung  for  matins  and  nightly  prayers.  At  length 
weariness  compelled  him  to  throw  himself  upon  his  hard  bed ;  a  fever- 
ish half-slumber,  out  of  which  he  was  startled  from  time  to  time,  led 
past  him  dreamy  visions.  He  saw  the  old  man  with  the  donkey, 
who  had  threatened  him  with  the  perniciosa ;  he  sat  now  in  the 
forest,  and  had  taken  upon  his  lap  the  bloody  head  of  a  boy,  —  a 
head  with  dark  eye-sockets  dreadful  to  behold.  Over  the  forest 
arose  a  lofty,  rich  palace,  and  therein  stretched  out  broad,  stately 
rooms,  in  one  of  which  stood  the  thorn-crowned  Christ  of  the 
picture  upon  which  Irmgard  had  looked,  the  entire  form  leaning 
upon  the  cross.  This  Christ  followed,  with  painful  glances  and 
gentle  turnings  of  the  head,  a  weeping  maiden  who  was  hastening 
through  the  room ;  but  the  maiden  did  not  see  him,  and  hurried  past. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE    POPE    GOES    TO    SLEEP. 

Motto  :  Eternal  God,  if  thou  didst  not  watch,  how  bad  it  would  be  for 
the  world  which  we  rule,  I,  a  wretched  hunter,  and  that 
drunken,  wicked  Julitis  !  — -  EMPEROR  MAXIMILIAN  I. 

ONG  before  the  hour  in  which  these  images,  like  an  Alpr 
lay  upon  the  breast  of  Brother  Martin,  had  Pope  Julius 
left  the  circle  of  those  who  surrounded  him  in  the  last 
evening  hour,  and  with  whom,  after  the  troubles  of  the 
day,  he  had  passed  the  time,  till  going  to  sleep,  in  gay  conversation. 
Julius  II.,  as  well  as  no  theologian,  was  also  no  learned  man.  Some 
one  has  said  of  him,  that  as  he  was  once  going  out  to  war,  he  threw 
down  from  the  Tiber  bridge  the  keys  of  Peter  into  the  river,  that 
he  might  draw  his  polished  sword.  When  Michael  Angelo  had  fin- 
ished his  statue  for  the  fagade  of  San  Petronio,  in  Bologna,  Julius 
was  angry  that  a  book  had  been  placed  in  his  hand,  and  cried  out, 
"I  am  no  scholar;  give  me  a  sword  in  my  hand  !  "  But  he  liked  to 
see  around  him  people  of  culture  and  learning,  and  in  those  hours  of 
recreation  he  often  won  the  admiration  of  these  men  for  his  knowl- 
edge of  the  world,  his  knowledge  of  political  relations,  and  his  pene- 
tration in  judging  of  them.  At  these  times,  in  spite  of  his  rough 
nature,  his  open  honesty  and  frank  manner  of  expression  could  give 
to  him  something  amiable ;  a  trait  which  stands  forth  more  vividly 
when  one  compares  him  with  his  predecessors. 

To-day,  when  he  left  his  own  attendants  and  betook  himself  to  his 
bedroom,  his  step  was  tottering,  and  the  head  of  the  old  man  sank 
heavily  forward.  He  had  in  the  evening  drunken  the  strong  red 
Gradoli ;  at  last  he  had  felt  it  was  time  for  him  to  betake  himself 
to  rest. 

"Gennaro,"  he  said,  breathing  heavily  and  leaning  upon  his  body- 
servant,  who  was  undressing  him,  "you  must  read  to  me,  when  I  lie 

3" 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  323 

down,  out  of  the  book,  there,  the  night  prayer;  I  fear  I  could  no 
longer  bring  the  words  together.  Were  you  not  down  in  the  city 
to-day?" 

"Yes,  Holy  Father." 

"And  what  are  they  talking  about  in  the  city  —  of  the  death  of 
Savelli  ? " 

"  Of  the  death  of  Savelli,  and  also  of  a  feast  in  the  Colonna  Palace 
in  the  honor  of  Duke  Alfonso." 

"So,  so  —  they  were  celebrating  a  feast  there  —  Alfonso  von 
Ferrara  was  having  a  feast !  "  murmured  the  Pope. 

And  then  after  a  pause  he  added  :  — 

"  He  has  found  that  the  supreme  pontifex  is  a  good-natured  old 
man,  with  whom  he  lets  himself  live !  Now  let  them  rejoice  and 
drink  !  In  the  Colonna  Palace  let  them  rejoice  !  The  rejoicing  will 
be  past,  Gennaro,  I  think  even  to-morrow,  to-morrow  morning.  Lay 
the  cushion  upon  my  feet,  and  push  the  light  out  of  my  eyes  ;  the 
light  makes  them  ache  !  " 

"What  was  Your  Holiness  going  to  say?"  asked  Gennaro, 
who  knew  that  at  this  hour  he  might  venture  any  question. 

"What  was  I  going  to  say?  That  I  will  take  away  from  him  his 
entire  dukedom  of  Ferrara.  That  is  what  I  will  say,  Gennaro.  He 
shall  hand  it  over  to  me  entire,  entire ;  he  shall  not  keep  back  a  rod 
of  its  tillable  land.  That  is  what  I  would  say.  To-morrow  the  car- 
dinals will  say  it  to  him  —  to  this  Este  !  " 

"  And  will  he  let  it  please  him  ?  He  will  ride  home  and  begin 
war  again !  " 

"  Ride  home  ?     One  will  teach  him  that !  " 

"But,  Holy  Father,  you  have  just  granted  him  peace  and  par- 
doned him  upon  the  condition  that  he  humble  himself,  and  acknow- 
ledge himself  your  vassal.  He  has  had  your  promise,  and  it  is 
wrong " 

"Wrong  —  wrong,"  answered  Julius,  with  a  thick  tongue.  "You 
blockhead,  will  you  restrain  me  from  calling  it  right  ?  Is  it  not 
right  if  I  make  it  right  ?  Has  another  to  decide  what  is  right  or 
wrong,  or  have  I  ?  Am  I  the  Pope,  or  are  you,  Gennaro  ?  Gennaro, 
if  you  were  the  Pope,  would  you  not  wish  Ferrara  ?  Go  and  read 
out  of  the  book  the  night  prayer  ;  we  dare  not  neglect  the  night 
prayer.  What  would  Father  Anselmo  say  ?  I  can  bind  and  loose, 
Gennaro;  I  will  loose  Ferrara  from  this  Este  —  loose  from  this 
Este  —  the  Alfonso  I  will  have  bound  —  seized  and  bound " 


324  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

The  voice  of  the  Pope  went  off  into  an  unintelligible  murmur.  He 
had  long  before  shut  his  eyes.  He  moved  his  lips  still  a  few  times, 
and  then  went  to  sleep. 

Gennaro  slipped  out  of  the  room  on  tiptoe. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

CALLISTO'S   NEWS. 

IT  was  on  the  following  morning.  Callisto  had  been  led 
into  the  city  by  his  business  and  by  the  desire  to  obtain 
information  as  to  what  they  were  saying  down  there  in 
regard  to  the  occurrences  in  the  house  of  Savelli,  also  as  to 
what  else  had  happened.  Donna  Ottavia  was  sitting  on  the  couch 
which,  yesterday,  Egino  was  still  occupying.  He  himself,  much 
stronger  after  a  night  of  profound  and  healthful  sleep,  and  almost 
restored  to  the  feeling  of  perfect  health,  sat  in  an  armchair  at  the 
open  window,  into  which  streamed  a  warm,  odor-impregnated,  ever 
salubrious  breeze.  His  wound  was  in  the  act  of  healing  over ;  what 
had  kept  him  weak  and  feeble  was  only  the  fearful  mental  pain, 
the  tormenting  anxiety,  about  Irmgard,  about  Corradina's  fate,  the 
frightful  images  which  had  haunted  him  in  the  prison.  The  events 
of  the  night  which  had  brought  to  him  freedom,  must,  then,  have 
agitated  him  anew  most  violently.  Now,  however,  had  his  elastic, 
youthful  strength  begun  again  to  permeate  his  being ;  and,  breath- 
ing deep,  he  inhaled  the  mild  air  with  the  perfect  delight  of  return- 
ing strength,  though  his  breast  could  still  heave  so  little  free  from 
the  pressure  of  care.  There  was,  on  the  contrary,  sufficient  ground 
for  finding  a  condition  such  as  his  rather  full  of  despair.  The  threat- 
ening danger  swaying  over  him  and  over  Corradina  ;  the  condition 
of  Irmgard,  upon  which  he  dwelt  with  so  much  uneasiness  ;  the 
danger  into  which  he  had  brought  his  noble  entertainers,  and  in 
which  he  was  still  keeping  them  ;  the  certainty  that  he  had 
thoroughly  marred  his  brother's  lawsuit,  for  the  sake  of  which  he 
had  come  hither ;  and,  more  than  all,  the  futifre  of  Corradina,  whom 
no  one  but  just  he  had  severed  so  violently  from  her  relations,  to 
lead  her  into  a  future  lying  before  him  like  a  chaotic  dream, — all 
this  was  effective  enough  to  cause  him  to  say  to  Donna  Ottavia,  with 
painful  emotion  :  - 


326  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  I  feel  myself  strong  enough  in  order  to-day,  as  soon  as  night 
has  come,  to  thank  you  for  your  noble  hospitality,  and  to  free  you 
from  my  dangerous  presence  in  your  house.  Signor  Callisto  will, 
of  course,  lend  to  me  the  means  for  the  journey,  for  which  he  can 
repay  himself  out  of  my  possessions,  through  my  servant,  so  soon  as 
there  would  no  longer  be  any  danger  to  him  in  seeking  out  my 
servant  in  my  lodgings  hi  the  city.  Believe  me,  I  also  now  know 
enough  of  Rome  to  leave  it  without  reluctance.  I  will  go  filled  with 
your  theory  that  there  are  two  kinds  of  poesy,  or,  better  even,  three, 
and  three  kinds  of  flames  which  can  blaze  up  in  the  human  soul." 

"  Three  flames,  and  all  at  once  ?  "  remarked  Donna  Ottavia,  smil- 
ing. "  I  think  one  would  be  enough  for  one  heart." 

"  I  mean  not  all  at  once,  but,  as  you  also  meant  it  then,  fairly  in 
succession,  and  as  one  becomes  more  mature  :  the  first,  for  the  great 
and  sublime,  for  God  in  the  phenomena  ;  the  second  for  truth  and 
the  eternal  ideas,  whose  daughters  the  phenomena  are,  for  God  in' 
the  thoughts ;  finally,  the  third,  for  love  and  for  goodness  and  for 
the  human  being,  for  God  in  the  soul " 

"And  have  I  taught  to  you  this  new  kind  of  a  trinity,  Conte 
Gino  ? "  said  Donna  Ottavia,  smilingly  interrupting  him. 

"  About  that !  Did  you  not  say  then  that  I  need  only  fall  in  love 
a  little  unhappily  to  find  that  behind  the  poesy  of  Rome,  which 
caused  me  to  break  out  into  such  ecstasies  in  your  presence,  stands 
a  higher  ?  " 

"  I  remember. " 

"  Well,  now,  I  have  reflected  over  that.  I  have  had  some  experi- 
ences since  then." 

"  And  you  have  very  quickly  followed  my  advice,  and  fallen  in  love, 
Don  Gino  !  And  that,"  she  added,  "  has  made  a  philosopher  of  you, — 
a  discoverer  of  a  new  trinity  ?  You  Germans  are  a  wond'erful 
people ! " 

"  Not  so  wonderful  as  you  think  ;  for  although  we  rack  our  brains 
a  great  deal,  especially  when  the  Inquisition  throws  us  into  her 
dungeons,  we  conduct  ourselves,  at  least,  not  differently  from  others, 
and  are,  perhaps,  much  more  helpless  than  they.  I  am  very  much 
in  need  of  advice  at  this  moment,  Donna  Ottavia." 

"Are  you?  And  wherefore,  Conte  Gino?"  asked  Donna 
Ottavia. 

"Are  you  not  yourself  aware  ?  I  have  made  no  secret  of  the  deep 
passion  which  has  filled  me  for  Corradina  since  the  moment  in 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  327 

which  I  saw  her  for  the  first  time.  I  need  not  paint  for  you  the 
depth  of  this  passion,  for  you  know  to  what  length  it  has  carried  me; 
how  it  has  caused  me  to  defy  every  danger  and  consideration.  And 
still  I  scarcely  knew  Corradina, — knew  little  of  her  mind  and 
thoughts,  and  nothing  at  all  of  her  past.  Now,  when  she  has 
related  it  all,  .when  she  has  granted  to  me  for  whole  hours  the  favor 
of  her  sweet  presence,  my  heart,  which  in  the  beginning  beat  boldly 
for  every  venture,  and  considered  nothing  unattainable,  is  now  filled 
with  the  deepest  despondency.  I  feel  myself  so  unfortunately  needy, 
Donna  Ottavia !  Her  name,  her  blood,  her  culture,  and  her  mind 
would  not  overawe  me,  and  restrain  me  from  suing  for  her  heart  and 
hand.  I  am  conscious  of  a  pure  nature,  of  a  noble  will,  and  of  at 
least  enough  mind  to  vouchsafe  to  us  sufficient  insight  and  intellect 
to  be  able  to  act  for  the  happiness  of  those  who  depend  upon  us. 
And  what  would  I  not  do,  sacrifice,  give  up,  to  make  such  a  wife  as 
Corradina  happy !  My  whole  life  would  I  devote  to  this  one 
thought ! " 

"And  yet  you  dare  not  now  woo  her,  Con,te  Gino  ?"  asked  Donna 
Ottavia,  directing  her  glance  thoughtfully,  and  as  if  half-abstractedly, 
upon  Egino. 

"  It  is  so,"  responded  Egino.  ,"  I  feel  myself  too  poor  in  the  pres- 
ence of  her  inner  wealth ;  I  become  absorbed  in  all  that  she  has  ex- 
perienced,—  I  live  it  over  anew  with  her ;  I  follow  the  thoughts,  the 
feelings  with  which  her  soul  is  filled,  her  mind  expanded,  and  how  it 
must  place  her  with  her  inner  world  toward  the  men  and  the  world 
outside  of  her ;  and  then,  despairing,  hopeless,  I  say  to  myself, 
What  can  I  be  to  her  ?  How  can  I  remove  the  dark  shadows  her 
experiences  have  thrown  over  her  soul  ?  What  am  I,  that  I  could  be 
the  price  to  purchase  her  back  to  happiness  ?  Can  I  walk  before 
her  and  say,  Throw  into*  one  scale  all  the  bitterness,  the  hardness, 
the  dreadfulness  of  your  life,  throw  me  into  the  other,  and  I  will 
outweigh  it,  and  make  you  happy  ?  " 

If  Count  Egino  had  secretly  entertained  the  hope  that  Donna 
Ottavia  would  contradict  him,  and  pronounce  his  despair  the 
result  of  groundless  diffidence,  he  had  erred,  for  she  thoughtfully 
answered  : — 

"The  mind  of  the  countess  must  have  become  gloomy,  through 
what  she  has  experienced ;  in  that  you  are  right,  Count  Egino. 
Bitterness  must  have  sunk  to  the  bottom  of  her  heart :  this  must 
have  closed  it  against  softer  feelings ;  this  must  have  taught  her  to 


328  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

hate  all  men ;  she  must  have  come  to  the  conclusion  never  to  belong 
to  any  man, —  all  that  is  natural " 

"  So  natural  it  would  be  a  wonder  if  it  were  otherwise  !  "  put  in 
Egino. 

"And  so,"  continued  Donna  Ottavia,  "I  can  only  pronounce  you 
right  when  you  despair  of  wooing  her.  Of  course  you  are  a  different 
man  from  the  kind  of  men  she  has  learned  to  know.  What  you  and 
she  have  together  passed  through  has  of  itself  brought  you  nearer  to 
her  :  besides,  you  could  offer  her  a  destiny  that  would  remove  her 
far  from  all  the  circle  in  which  she  was  so  unhappy ;  that  would  take 
•her  away  into  a  sure,  protecting  distance ;  that  would  rescue  her 
from  the  only  remaining  escape  —  that  of  going  into  a  cloister.  But, 
-  I  will  speak  to  you  candidly,  as  a  true  friend,  Count  .Egino, — 
granted  these  reasons  should  move  her  to  listen  to  your  wooings  and 
the  entreaties  of  your  love,  and  to  give  you  her  hand,  would  you 
both  become  happy,  she  as  well  as  you  ?  Would  you  not  then  be 
always  asking  yourself :  Is  she  satisfied  now  with  being  and  living 
in  my  rough  northern  land  ?  Do  not  our  customs  repel  her  ?  Does 
she  not  ponder  in  secret  whether  I  am  worthy  of  her  having,  for  my 
sake,  become  untrue  to  her  sunny  native  land,  the  Ausonian  earth, 
and  to  her  vow  of  belonging  to  no  man  ?  Could  two  persons  be 
happy  who  are  of  such  entirely  different  blood,  different  race,  differ- 
ent nature,  and  different  character, —  your  open  and  warm  German 
soul,  shining  so  clear  and  innocent  from  your  eyes,  your  unembit- 
tered  young  Gothic  blood,  and  her  earnest,  gloomy  spirit  with  all  its 
wounds  ? " 

"And  still,  and  still,"  Egino  broke  out  in  perfect  despair,  "I 
would  not  know  how  to  leave  her,  and  my  heart  would  break  in  two ;: 
my  whole  life  would  be  destroyed,  my  future  be  a  long  grief,  if  I  must 
relinquish  the  thought  of  her." 

"  Time  is  man's  greatest  benefactor,  Conte  Gino.  Do  not  despair 
on  that  account.  Time  will  transform  your  grief  into  melancholy, 
and  the  melancholy  will  give  place  to  the  satisfaction  which  you  will 
hereafter  feel  that  you  are  chained  no  longer  by  any  kind  of  bond  to- 
Roman  things  and  relations." 

Count  Egino  was  silent.  He  stared  at  the  floor  ;  his  face  became 
paler  under  the  pressure  with  which  the  words  of  Donna  Ottavia 
had  still  more  afflicted  his  soul,  losing  itself  in  hopelessness. 

"  But  she  ? "  he  asked,  after  a  pause,  with  trembling  lips.  "  What 
will  become  of  Corradina  ?  " 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  329- 

"Do  not  be  uneasy  about  her,"  replied  Donna  Ottavia.  "She 
will  go  into  a  cloister,  and  in  its  protection  will  easily  feel  happier 
than  she  was  in  the  house  of  Savelli.  The  cloister  will  compel  them 
to  deliver  up  her  possessions  :  cloisters  have  ways  and  means  of 
helping  those  belonging  to  them  to  their  rights,  and  they  love  heir- 
esses. Her  name  and  her  riches  will  rapidly  promote  her.  She  will 
soon  be  the  principal  of  such  an  order  and  its  domains.  Believe  me, 
you  need  not  fear  for  her  future ;  and  if  after  years  you  think  of  her, 
consoled,  represent  her  to  yourself  as  a  commanding  abbess,  with  a 
crucifix  upon  her  breast  and  a  silver  staff ! " 

"  She  —  she  a  nun !  Never  will  this  happen  !  What  would  a 
nun  be  without  faith  !  "  exclaimed  Egino. 

"What  thousands  of  nuns  are  to-day  out  of  the  noblest  races." 

At  this  instant  Callisto  entered  quickly,  and  overheated. 

"You  must  flee,  Count  Egino,  this  very  night!"  he  said.  "The 
Savelli  people  have  not  yet  discovered  you,  it  is  true,  but  I 
know  they  have  had  spies  put  around  my  house,  while  already,  day 
before  yesterday,  two  troops  of  horse  have  been  sent  out  after 
you;  one  upon  the  road  to  Civitavecchia,  the  other  upon  the  road  to 
the  north.  They  considered  it  most  likely  that  you  had  fled  in  the 
direction  of  Viterbo,  upon  the  road  to  your  home.  This  troop  have 
just  now  returned  without  having  discovered  any  trace  of  you, 
and  likewise  the  one  pursuing  you  toward  the  sea ;  so  they  will 
conclude  that  you  are  still  here,  and  will  break  in  upon  me ;  of  that 
you  may  be  certain." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Egino,  rising,  with  a  constrained  tone ;  "  I 
must  flee  —  flee.  And  you,  Donna  Ottavia,  say  yourself  whether  I 
can  do  it.  O  my  God,  I  cannot  do  it  ! "  he  added,  with  a  cry  of 
pain,  clasping  his  hands  together  and  then  covering  his  face  with 
them. 

At  this  outcry,  and  this  movement  of  his  young  friend,  Callisto 
looked  at  his  wife  in  astonishment.  Donna  Ottavia  laid  her  hand 
upon  Egino's  shoulder,  and  said  :  — 

"  Courage,  courage,  Count  Egino  ;  what  a  man  has  found  out  to 
be  the  right  thing,  he  must  also  have  the  strength  to  put  into  ex- 
ecution." 

"  I  will  arrange  everything  for  your  flight,"  added  Callisto.  "  For 
your  suit,  leave  me  your  power  of  attorney,  and  rely  upon  me  to 
bring  out  of  it  whatever  is  to  be  brought  out  of  it.  As  soon  as  it  is 
night,  my  horse  shall  be  saddled  and  ready  for  you.  Donna  Ottavia 


330  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

will  take  care  that  there  is  no  lack  of  clothing,  and  I  that  there  is 
no  lack  of  money  in  the  knapsack." 

"  I  thank  you  a  thousand  times,  Callisto,  for  all  your  kindness ;  I 
thank  you  from  the  profoundest  depths  of  my  heart  ;  but " 

"You  dare  not,"  continued  the  lawyer,  "take  the  direct  way  over 
the  Ponte  Molle  ;  that  bridge,  as  well  as  the  one  in  front  of  Porta 
Salara,  is  guarded.  We  must  (for  I  will  myself  be  your  guide)  go 
through  Porta  Sant  Agnese  to  Ponte  Mammolo,  in  order  to  pass 
over  the  Anio  ;  and  then  down  it  to  the  left,  to  set  you  over  the 
Tiber  by  ferry." 

"But,  my  God  !  can  I  do  it, —  can  I  do  it  then? "  exclaimed  Egino, 
as  if  crushed.  "  Is  it  possible  that  I  tear  myself  away,  never  to 
return,  also  without  one  hope  ever  to  find  out  what  has  become  of 
Corradina  ;  that  never  again  can  a  greeting  or  a  word  from  her  reach 
me ;  with  the  feeling  that  I  am  dead  for  her,  —  that  she,  and  with 
her  the  world,  is  dead  for  me  !  " 

Callisto  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  and  then  again,  questioningly,  at 
Donna  Ottavia. 

" Dira  necessitous!"  he  said  then,  in  a  low  tone.  "In  that,  you 
will  know  how  to  submit.  The  proud  Hohenstaufen  blood  will  not 
become  your  wife,  and  cannot,  Count  Egino.  You  cannot  plant  a 
palm  among  your  oaks  and  pines.  If  you  love  her  you  could  not 
wish  that ;  if  you  should  ask  it  of  her  she  would  find  out  from  that 
that  you  are  an  egotistic  man,  no  better  than  all  the  rest ! " 

Egino  was  yet  too  much  enfeebled  by  his  illness,  too  excitable,  to 
be  able  to  maintain  his  self-control;  he  threw  himself  upon  a  chair, 
and  pressing  his  hands  before  his  face  he  broke  into  a  flood  of  tears. 

Donna  Ottavia  left  the  room  and  ascended  to  Corradina's  chamber 
upstairs,  while  Signer  Callisto  resorted  to  everything  possible  in 
talking,  to  alleviate  the  grief  of  his  young  friend.  After  awhile 
Donna  Ottavia  came  back. 

"The  countess,"  she  whispered,  "was  very  much  startled  at  the 
news  I  just  now  brought  her.  She  insists  that  Count  Egino  must 
flee- 

"  She  sends  me  away  —  she  also  sends  me  away!"  exclaimed 
Egino,  who  had  heard  the  last  words.  "Then  I  will  go  —  I  will  go. 
But  I  beg  you  let  me  not  see  her  again  ;  a  leave-taking  would  break 
my  heart.  Only  to  Irmgard  will  I  go.  From  her  will  I  take  leave. 
I  will  tell  her " 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  331 

"  But  I  beg  you,  Count  Egino,  not  to  think  of  risking  yourself 
again  in  the  city ! "  broke  in  Callisto. 

"  What  risk  do  I  take  ? "  said  Egino,  cutting  short  his  speech. 
"  For  a  duty,  my  life.  That  is  something  great,  when  my  life  has 
become  so  worthless  and  miserable." 

"  And  yet  you  shall  not,"  exclaimed  Callisto,  angrily  aroused. 
"  My  God  !  you  dare  not " 

Donna  Ottavia  laid  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"Be  quiet,  Callisto;  he  will  not  do  it,"  she  said.  ''The  Countess 
Corradina  asked  after  the  German  monk ;  we  are  to  bid  him  come. 
She  truly  thinks  he  will  best  know  how  to  console  our  friend.  He 
will  also  know  how  to  restrain  Count  Egino  from  executing  such  a 
foolhardy  resolution." 

"And  I  tell  you,"  cried  Egino,  "that  even  he  will  assist  me,  and 
recognize  the  fact  that  I  cannot  go  without  having  pressed  the  hand 
of  the  poor,  brave  girl  who  has  done  so  great  a  thing  for  me." 

At  this  moment  the  door  of  the  room  opened,  and  Corradina  came 
in.  Her  face,  with  its  finely  chiseled  features,  which  usually  showed 
an  unchangeable,  faintly  perceptible  tinge  of  color,  was  overspread 
with  a  delicate  flush,  as  if  from  inner  agitation.  Ottavia  had  never 
seen  upon  her  countenance  this  expression  of  spiritual  beauty. 
Before  Egino  stood  again  quite  that  daughter  of  the  Hohenstaufens 
before  whom  he  knelt  when  he  had  held  that  first  interview  with 
her,  when  she  so  proudly,  and  yet  with  so  much  emotion,  had  bowed 
her  brow  to  his. 

She  threw  a  glance  upon  Egino,  and  then  turned  to  Donna 
Ottavia. 

"Did  you  have  the  goodness  to  send  for  Fra  Martino?"  she 
asked. 

"  I  am  going  to  have  him  bidden  to  come,"  said  Donna  Ottavia, 
and  she  left  the  room. 

Callisto  exclaimed  :  — 

"  You  come  at  the  right  moment  to  help  us,  Countess.  You  must 
forbid  our  friend,  there,  to  commit  a  boundless  folly  ;  he  will  surely 
heed  your  reasonable  remonstrances " 

"I  will  not  spare  them,"  broke  in  Corradina.  "Will  you  leave  me 
alone  with  Count  Egino,  Signor  Callisto  ?  " 

The  lawyer  bowed  and  went  out. 

"Count  Egino,"  she  now  said,  approaching  him  and  extending  to 
him  her  hand,  "Donna  Ottavia  tells  me  that  the  moment  has  come 


332  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

when  you  must  flee, —  the  moment  of  separation  for  us,  as  she  says. 
So  I  must  talk  to  you  and  give  expression  to  that  which  I  have 
avoided,  in  order  not  to  excite  you  when  convalescing,  and  thus  to 
prevent  your  recovery." 

"Must  you  give  expression  to  it  ? "  rejoined  Egino,  with  a  bitter 
tone,  and  turning  himself  away.  "  Is  it  then  necessary  that  it 
should  be  spoken, —  that  word  of  final  separation,  of  blank-eyed  hope- 
lessness ?  Is  it  necessary  that  you  lead  me  into  this  temptation  to 
break  out  into  a  last  storm  of  passion,  and  vainly  throw  myself  at 
your  feet  to  pour  out  my  heart  to  you " 

"Count  Egino,"  she  interposed,  "you  know  not  what  you  say! 
I  demand  it  of  you  to  remain  quiet, —  to  hear  calmly  what  I  have  to 
say  to  you.  Seat  yourself  there  and  hear  the  reasonable  remon- 
strances which,  as  Signer  Callisto  says,  I  have  to  make  to  you.  I 
beg  of  you  not  to  show  me  in  this  hour  that  you  are  no  better  than 
the  men  whom  I  hate, —  who  can  do  nothing  but  torment  and  perse- 
cute us  with  their  horrible  passion.  Show  to  me  that  in  you  rolls  a 
different  blood,  a  true  warm  blood;  not  one  which  now,  wildly  heated, 
seethes  and  rages,  now  turns  to  ice." 

Count  Egino  had  seated  himself  upon  the  couch ;  Corradina  had 
seized  his  right  hand  and  stood  before  him  while  she  spoke 
further  :  — 

"  See,  Count  Egino,  I  do  not  love  you  —  not  with  the  feeling  I 
have  been  obliged  to  hear  called  love  by  men,  and  before  which  I 
would  dread  myself,  if  I  should  feel  myself  seized  by  its  consuming 
fire,  its  sense-destroying  madness 

"You  are  very  kind  to  tell  me  ! "  stammered  Egino,  with  pale  lips. 

"  I  owe  it  to  you,"  she  responded.  I  owe  it  to  you  to  place  clearly 
before  you  my  feeling  for  you.  I  see  in  you  a  friend,  a  brother.  I 
hear  your  voice  gladly;  I  rejoice  in  your  presence;  my  whole  soul 
clings  to  you  ;  and  I  feel  that  you  would  be  able  to  make  me  better 
than  I  am.  Your  open,  kind,  cheerful  nature,  which  is  like  the  cup 
of  a  white  flower,  upon  which  yet  lies  the  dawn  of  life  with  a  rosy 
shimmer  and  brightness  — I  feel  that  this  nature  could  even  power- 
fully influence  mine,  and  extinguish  my  bitterness  and  the  gloomy 
temper  which  is  in  me.  With  this  you  must  now  be  content ;  I  can- 
not grant  you  more ;  you  dare  not  ask  for  more." 

"Of  course;  I  must  be  satisfied  with  it  !"  whispered  Egino,  cast 
•clown  and  bitter. 

"  And  can  you  not  do  that  ?     Is  it  not  enough  for  your  happiness  ?  " 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  333 

"  No,  no, —  and  again  no  !  "  added  Egino,  vehemently,  aloud.  "  By 
the  thought,  by  the  hope  of  winning  your  heart,  your  love,  I  have 
lived  all  this  time." 

"Restrain  yourself,  restrain  yourself,"  exclaimed  Corradina ;  "no 
storm,  no  passion  in  this  hour  !  You  must  reconcile  yourself  to  that, 
Egino, —  to  speak  to  me  only  with  calm  reason  ;  and  if  you " 

"  But  I  cannot  do  it  now  ;  this  quiet  renunciation  of  my  happiness, 
of  my  life,  of  my  earthly  future,  which  will  now  become  a  place  of 
torment  to  me " 

"  You  are  a  fool,  like  all  the  men,"  said  Corradina,  indignantly 
cutting  short  his  speech.  "  I  can  grant  you  no  greater  happiness  !  " 
she  added,  almost  angrily.  "  And  ask  yourself  what  happiness  you 
will  afford  me,  if  you  are  so  foolish  as  to  ask  of  me  more  than  I  can 
bestow, —  at  least,  more  than  I  can  bestow  now.  A  woman  wishes  to 
have  the  consciousness  that  she  makes  the  man  happy  to  whom  she 
gives  herself  as  his  own.  Therein  consists  her  happiness, —  only, 
exclusively  therein.  So,  at  least,  I  feel.  And  if  I  now  tell  you  that 
I  will  become  your  wife,  to  go  with  you  to  your  home  — 

"You — my  wife?"  cried  Egino,  hastily  rising  and  seizing  both 
her  hands.  "Yes,  will  you,  then  ?  You  will  become  my  wife  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  dilated  eyes,  in  which  Egino  could  read 
only  surpise. 

"  Have  you,  then,  doubted  that  ?  "  she  said.  "  That  is  strange, 
Count  Egino.  I  think  fate  has  united  us  more  firmly  than  a  priest's 
blessing  can  do !  There  are  things  which  a  noble  woman  can  do 
only  for  her  husband.  To  flee  out  of  her  house  with  a  man  ;  to  go  up 
and  down  with  him  through  the  night  alone  ;  to  sit  by  the  couch  of  a 
man  nursing  him,  and  to  remain  with  him  days  at  a  time, —  I  can  do 
this  only  when  I  belong  to  this  man,  and  am  his  wife  for  time  and 
eternity !  " 

"  Corradina  !  "  faltered  Egino. 

"  And  will  you  now  still  complain  about  your  happiness  ?  Well, 
then,  if  I  cannot  grant  to  you  the  happiness  which  lies  in  the  con- 
fession of  a  passion  for  you  such  as  you  desire,  I  can  yet  afford  to 
you  that  which  another  confession  must  produce  ;  that  is,  that  I 
shall  always  see  in  you  my  rescuer,  —  the  man  who  has  wiped  out 
relations  unendurable  to  me,  and  who  leads  me  into  a  better  land,  for 
which  I  have  learned  to  long  as  after  the  land  of  liberty,  as  after  the 
land  of  my  nativity,  —  the  land  of  my  fathers  and  my  own  land." 

"Hold,  Corradina,"  exclaimed  Egino,  while  he  knelt  down  before 


334  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

her  and  pressed  her  hands  upon  his  glowing  face.  "  Oh  !  how  little 
have  I  understood  you  !  You  give  me  so  much  joy  that  it  might 
kill  me  !  " 

"Compose  yourself,  Egino,"  she  said,  withdrawing  from  him  one  of 
her  hands  and  laying  it  upon  his  arm  ;  "  we  have  concluded  that  this 
hour  should  be  devoted  to  reasonable  deliberations.  We  need  all 
our  reason  to  escape  the  danger  surrounding  us.  Let  us  consider 
our  flight.  I  have  had  Brother  Martin  bidden  to  come.  Your 
friend  shall  bless  our  betrothal  in  the  presence  of  Signor  Callisto, 
who,  as  a  well-known  legal  personage,  will  give  testimony  that  my 
marriage  with  Luca  Savelli  was  an  unreal  appearance  and  a  null 
action.  Then,  as  your  wedded  bride,  I  can  flee  with  you.  If 
Callisto  cannot  provide  you  with  means  for  the  journey,  I  can  help 
out ;  before  I  went  with  Livio  Savelli  to  liberate  you,  I  supplied  my- 
self with  gold.  When  we  shall  have  Rome  and  the  Tiber  behind 
us,  we  will  buy  either  mules  or  horses." 

They  were  interrupted,  for  already  Brother  Martin  stepped  into 
the  room. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

4         THE    LAST   DROP. 

ROTHER  MARTIN,  who,  conducted  by  Callisto,  now 
came  in,  was  in  the  highest  state  of  excitement.  He 
threw  himself  upon  a  chair,  wiped  his  brow,  and,  looking 
at  Egino  and  Corradina,  said  :  — 

"  You  will  up  and  away,  Count  Egino  ?  You  are  obliged  to  do  it, 
as  Callisto  says  ?  Now  may  God  guide  your  flight  !  " 

"  I  will  not  be  alone  in  it,  Brother  Martin,"  replied  Egino,  in  his 
joy  shaking  both  of  Martin's  hands.  "  See,  here  is  my  betrothed  ; 
she  will  accompany  me.  You  are  first  to  bless  our  vows.  Callisto 
will  tell  you  that  you  may  do  it." 

"  Oho  ! '.'  exclaimed  Brother  Martin,  "  bless  your  vows  ?  O  ?  I  am 
to  bless  to-day  ?  Well,  then,  let  it  be  so  ;  I  will  bless,  though,  like 
Balaam,  I  came  hither  to  curse  —  yes,  to  curse  —  although  I  am  a 
priest,  and  a  servant  of  blessing  and  peace.  My  heart  would  press 
it  from  me  if  I  did  not  hurl  a  bold  anathema  against  the  whole 
Babel  and  the  beast  which  sits  upon  its  seven  hills  !  " 

"And  what  has  happened  to  you  —  what  has  put  you  in  such  a 
passion,  Brother  Martin  ?  " 

"I  will  tell  you  what  has  thrown  me  into  such  a  passion,  Count 
Egino !  Rome  throws  me  into  a  passion  !  This  wicked  Rome, 
which  has  murdered  our  Christian  life,  and  wishes  to  convert  the 
free  creatures  of  God  to  stupid  praying-mills,  such  as  they  have  in 
Thibet  or  in  Mantchooria,  as  Marco  Polo, —  or  is  it  Martin  Behaim 
who  describes  them !  These  inquisitors  in  scarlet  cardinal  robes, 
for  which  red  is  the  proper  color,  —  for  only  take  the  garment  and 
wring  it,  and  there  drops  out  the  blood  of  a  witness  of  the  truth ! 
This  Pope  puts  me  into  a  passion  ;  for  he  is  not  an  apostle  of 
love,  a  guardian  of  the  truth,  but  a  false  robber." 

"  What  has  our  Holy  Father  done,  that  you  fly  out  into  such  a 
passion  against  him?"  said  Callisto,  smiling,  but  surprised  at  the 

335 


336  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

passionate  expressions  of  the  German  monk,  whose  speech  he  rather 
guessed  at  than  understood. 

"  Listen  !  "  replied  Luther.  "  You  may  like  to  know  that  I  have 
become  sated  and  disgusted  with  the  life  here.  I  had  formed  my 
resolution.  The  Devil  had  begun  with  me  such  a  disputation  in  my 
heart,  that  he  had  made  me  afraid  of  myself.  And  then  I  said  to 
myself :  Flee  from  here,  you  poor  shote  of  a  Martin,  while  it  is  yet 
time,  and  before  you  have  yet  suffered  harm  to  your  soul.  If  they 
have  killed  Christ  in  the  world,  and  if  they  will  bring  it  about  that 
the  churches  stand  empty,  the  altars  deserted  ;  that  the  sound  of 
bells  die  out,  and  hearts  apostatize  from  the  faith, —  do  not  suffer  it 
that  they  extinguish  the  flames  upon  the  altar  of  your  heart  ;  that 
they  make  dumb  the  bells  resounding  and  chiming  in  your  soul. 
You  hold  fast  to  your  God,  to  your  Christ,  and  to  the  faith  in  his 
Word.  Go  from  hence  before  doubt  becomes  powerful  in  you,  and  the 
Devil  obtains  sway  over  you,  and  moves  in  you  as  in  a  swine  of  the 
Gergesene  herd.  Hasten  from  hence ;  shake  the  dust  of  Rome  from 
your  feet,  and  take  in  your  hand  the  pilgrim-staff  with  which  you 
came  hither  !  Thus  I  spoke  to  myself.  And  so  I  went  with  it  to 
my  prior,  that  I  might  hand  over  to  him  my  power  of  attorney  in- 
trusted to  me  by  our  congregation  in  Saxony  —  you  know,  on 
account  of  the  process  against  you,  Count  von  Ortenburg,  at  the 
Rota  here.  The  prior  is  also  willing  to  take  it  upon  himself  immedi- 
ately; but  he  warned  me  first  to  go  to  Father  Anselmo,  and  to  "take 
my  leave  of  him.  Of  course,  Father  Anselmo  is  a  powerful  man,  and 
he  stands  high  in  our  order,  and  has  been  kind  and  of  the  best  dispo- 
sition toward  me,  as  you  yourself,  indeed,  saw  and  know,  Count 
Egino.  So  I  must  walk  to  the  Vatican  —  once  more  !  I  went,  and 
went  with  heavy  step,  as  if  something  held  back  my  foot  which  was 
again  treading  this  path.  And  when  I  arrived  up  there,  Father 
Anselmo  received  me  kindly  and  listened  to  what  I  had  to  say ;  but 
his  countenance  was  gloomy,  and  he  only  half  heard  what  I  said,  and 
at  last  he  replied  :  — 

" '  The  Holy  Father  did  treat  you  rather  roughly  not  long  since, 
Brother  Martin,  but  you  brought  it  upon  yourself,  because  you  pre- 
sented to  him  metaphysical  things  which  he  does  not  like,  and  then 
there  still  lay  upon  his  mind  this  transaction  with  the  Duke  of 
Ferrara,  which,  I  fear,  will  still  take  an  evil  turn  for  the  Holy  Chair 
and  our  poor  Italy ' 

"  '  The  transaction  with  the  Duke  of  Ferrara  ? '  I  asked  thereupon. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  337 

'  I  hear,  worthy  Father,  that  this  transaction  was  disposed  of  in  the 
most  beautiful  peace ;  that  the  Holy  Father  promised  to  Fabricio 
Colonna  that  the  duke  should  have  peace,  and  the  ban  should  be 
removed  from  him,  in  case  he  would  come  and  beg  for  pardon 
and  acknowledge  the  supremacy  of  the  church  over  Ferrara.  Since, 
now,  all  that  has  happened " 

"'That  has  happened,'  remarked  Father  Anselmo;  'but  do  you 
know  of  nothing  else?  The  Holy  Father  cannot  be  satisfied 
with  such  a  mild  settlement  of  the  long  strife;  he  has  had  it 
disclosed  to  Alfonso  von  Ferrara  that  he  must  make  over  to  the 
church  his  dukedom  of  Ferrara.  The  duke  has  angrily  refused  ;  the 
Holy  Father,  however,  will  not  let  him  withdraw  until  he  has 
submitted.  The  Colonna  Palace,  where  the  duke  is  staying,  is 
watched  by  armed  men ;  all  the  gates  will  be  guarded  by  a 
strong  force;  the  duke  will  not  be  freed  till  he  obeys.  But  then 
what  will  happen  ?  The  King  of  France  is  his  old  ally.  Will  he 
not  find  in  this  a  call  of  honor  to  assist  Alfonso  ?  The  Holy  Father 
may  become  as  angry  as  he  will,  I  insist  upon  it  we  shall  again  have 
the  French  in  Italy  before  two  or  three  months  go  by  ! ' 

"  Thus  spoke  Father  Anselmo  with  gloomy,  anxious  mien  ;  and 
I,  —  I  stared  the  man  in  the  face  as  if  the  lightning  had  struck 
before  me. 

"'By  all  the  holy  helpers  in  need,'  I  cried,  'that  is  a  nefa- 
rious deed.  A  word  is  a  word  and  a  man  is  a  man,  and  even 
Pope  Julius ' 

"  Father  Anselmo,  however,  hastily  cut  short  my  speech.  I 
also  saw  that  my  words  would  be  lost  upon  him  There  lay  in  his 
thoughts  only  the  King  of  France  and  his  gigantic  subjects  and 
his  Swiss  regiments,  and  how  the  Republic  of  Venice  will  stand 
in  the  matter ;  not  a  thought  of  truth,  of  faith,  and  of  one's  word ;  all 
that  did  not  oppress  his  conscience.  And  that  man  is  the  Holy 
Father's  father  confessor  !  And  so  I  left.  Now,  however,  I  pray 
you,  Count  Egino,  is  this  to  be  endured  ?  Has  he  not  acted  as 
a  robber  and  a  scoundrel?  With  friendly  promise  and  a  safe 
conduct  has  the  duke  been  enticed  hither,  and  now  they  will 
plunder  him,  and  strip  him  to  the  shirt  in  this  Italian  fox-hole, — 
this  Castle  Malepartus  !  And  he  claims  to  be  the  father  of 
Christendom,  the  guardian  of  its  doctrine  ?  Is  it  not  enough 
that  they  have  given  to  us  a  faith  of  dead  works  instead  of  the  living 
faith  of  the  heart  ?  Now  shall  the  world  also  receive  from  them 


338  LUTHER    IN   ROME, 

another  right  ?  Must  not  the  thoughts  stand  still  in  your  brain 
according  to  this  right  ?  Truly,  they  wish  even  that  !  As  at 
the  command  of  Joshua  the  sun  stood  still  in  heaven,  so  at  the 
command  of  the  Pope  must  the  thoughts  of  the  world  stand 
still  !  Signor  Callisto,  you,  who  are  a  lawyer,  what  do  you  do 
with  your  brains  that  such  a  deed  may  go  into  it  ?  Do  you  get  you 
another,  for  that  which  God  has  given  you  does  not  suit  the 
Holy  Father?  Get  you  another  !  " 

"  I  will  guard  myself  against  that,  Fra  Martino,"  answered  Signor 
Callisto,  quietly  smiling  and  looking  down  upon  the  excited  monk. 
"  My  brain  is  just  right  for  me,  for  it  says  to  me,  If  the  Holy  Father 
is  a  secular  lord  and  prince,  he  must  also  act  as  the  clever  Florentine 
diplomatic  writer,  Signor  Niccolo  Macchiavelli,  prescribes  for  secular 
princes.  One  is  a  consequence  of  the  other,  my  brain  says  to  me. 
And  then  it  says,  You  are  wrong,  Fra  Martino,  with  your  2eal  against 
the  priests,  as  you  find  them  and  a,s  they  out  there  with  you  will  be- 
come not  much  better.  Or  are  they  better  ?  Then  see  :  man  creates 
his  God  after  his  own  image,  —  the  savage  his  fetish,  the  Hebrew  his 
choleric  Jehovah,  and  the  Greek  his  Jupiter ;  and  so  he  creates  also 
for  himself  his  priests  suited  to  the  image  of  his  God.  The  people 
will  that  they  be  just  so,  and  always  whatever  they  do,  they  will  not 
go  so  far  as  to  seem  unworthy  of  the  people's  God.  Our  illustrious 
pontiff,  Alexander  VI.  of  most  glorious  memory,  was  certainly  a  robust 
sinner.  But  is  he  not  still  to  be  considered  a  lamb  in  gentleness  and 
mildness  in  comparison  with  the  passionate  God,  the  Thunderer 
from  Sinai  ?  Our  courts  of  heresy  have  burned  many  poor  human 
beings,  racked  them  and  caused  them  to  pine  to  death  ;  but  what 
have  you  against  them,  since  their  God  lets  his  millions  burn  in  his 
hell  throughout  eternity  ?  " 

"Yes;  there  it  lies !"  said  Brother  Martin.  "There  is  truth  in 
what  you  say.  They  do  not  see  the  true  God,  who  is  only  love  and 
mercy,  but  only  the  angry  God  of  the  olden  time.  To  them,  Christ, 
the  gentle,  mild  one,  is  the  first  heretic  ;  therefore  have  they  slain 
him." 

"Brother  Martin,"  here  interposed  Egino,  whose  thoughts  in  this 
moment  had  a  direction  so  different  from  that  of  the  two  men,  "will 
you  pronounce  our  nuptial  benediction  ?  " 

"Certainly  I  will,"  responded  Brother  Martin.  "As  I  said  to  you, 
I  will  bless  you  as  all  of  those  who  are  of  a  good  will  and  of  a  pure 
heart,  but  I  will  curse  those  who  destroy  the  kingdom  of  God  upon 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  339 

earth.  I  will  go  home  to  my  poor  German  fatherland,  and  between 
these  clean,  honest  hands  of  mine  will  I  place  my  head,  and  day  and 
night  will  I  reflect  how  I  shall  begin  to  give  testimony  to  the  truth, 
so  that  the  world  may  listen  to  the  truth." 

"Brother  Martin,"  here  said  Corradina,  stepping  before  him  and 
placing  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  while  she  looked  him  search- 
ingly  in  the  eye,  "you,  honest  brother,  perhaps  no  longer  need  so 
much  thought  over  it !  Perhaps  One  greater  than  we  all  has  found 
and  pointed  out  the  way  by  which  the  people  may  be  led  to  the 
truth  ;  but  to  walk  upon  this  way  is  difficult.  Prometheus  brought 
fire  from  heaven,  and  for  this  was  chained  to  the  Atlas  Mountains. 
You  wish  to  do  more  ;  you  wish  to  kindle  for  the  world  an  inextin- 
guishable sun.  Do  you  believe  you  could  do  it  unpunished  ?  " 

"No.  But  I  am  not  afraid  of  punishment ;  for  I  know  that  if  they 
burn  me,  as  they  did  Girolamo  Savonarola,  and  as  Huss  of  Hussinecz, 
and  as  Hieronymus  of  Prague,  and  as  Arnold  of  Brescia,  and  as  so 
many  others,  they  will,  of  course,  cause  me  suffering,  but  they  could 
not  again  darken  and  extinguish  an  enkindled  sun." 

"Yet,"  continued  Corradina,  "if  you  do  not  fear  the  enemies  who 
will  stand  around  you  as  numerous  as  the  army  of  Pharaoh  against 
Moses,  will  you  never  fear  the  enemy  which  will  arise  in  yourself?" 

"What  enemy  do  you  mean  by  that  ?" 

"That  which  wakes  up  in  every  man  who  would  walk  upon  a  new 
way  to  a  new,  great,  yet-unattained  goal  —  doubt  of  yourself." 

"No,"  responded  Brother  Martin,  firmly  and  resolutely.  "I  can 
suffer,  rack  my  brains,  and  let  myself  be  agitated  and  be  deeply  un- 
happy thereby,  till  I  have  agreed  with  myself  about  a  thing.  Then, 
however,  I  hold  fast  to  it  in  lasting  fidelity.  Thus  I,  originally  a 
lawyer,  have  come  into  the  order  in  spite  of  storm  and  weather,  in 
spite  of  father  and  mother.  Dissension  has  no  power  over  my  nature. 
I  know  that  whatever  in  me  would  speak  against  the  light,  could  be 
only  the  voice  of  darkness." 

"  And  will  not  a  worse  voice  be  that  of  the  spirit  which  whispers 
to  you  not  to  lay  your  hand  upon  that  which  is  hallowed  by  time  ; 
not  to  take  away  from  the  faithful  soul  its  pious  consolation ;  not  to 
destroy  the  relics,  out  of  which  the  simple,  pious  nature  creates  its 
trust.  Not  to  spill  the  holy  water,  out  of  which  a  blessing  priestly 
hand  once  sprinkled  hope  and  confidence  upon  the  head  of  your 
.praying  mother?  Will  all  that  not  hinder  and  stop  you  upon  your 
way  ? " 


340  LUTHER    IN   ROME, 

"No,"  said  Luther,  firmly;  "for  the  time  is  past  for  a  blessing  to 
burst  forth  upon  humanity  by  the  sprinkling  of  holy  water.  We 
have  become  men,  and  only  from  the  truth  can  come  to  us  pious 
thoughts,  and  trust,  and  hope,  and  confidence." 

"  Well,  then,"  answered  Corradina,  "  I  trust  to  your  word  and 
your  flashing  eyes  that  you  are  firm  in  this  avowal  ;  and  so  I  will 
place  in  your  hands  the  heritage  of  my  forefather,  the  great  Frederic. 
May  your  hand  scatter  abroad  the  seed-thoughts  of  the  most  noble 
emperor  ;  the  world  of  to-day  is  a  soil  prepared  to  receive  this  crop. 
May  God  prosper  it  to  a  beautiful  fruitage.  You,  however,  will  then 
be  the  benefactor  of  the  human  race,  and  with  the  inheritance  of  the 
Staufens  avenge  the  overthrow  of  the  Staufens  upon  their  destroyer, 
the  church ! " 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

THE    BOOK    OF    FREDERIC    II. 

ORRADINA  quickly  left  the  chamber,  and  returned  after 
a  few  minutes. 

She  carried  in  her  hand  a  little  book,  which  was  bound 
in  a  thin  covering  overlaid  with  plate  of  gold  ;  upon  the 
gold  was  represented  in  embossed  work  all  kinds  of  figures  of  flowers 
and  animals  ;  a  clasp  of  gold  filigree  closed  it. 

"  Here  is  this  most  noble  legacy,"  said  Corradina,  when  she  handed 
over  the  book  to  the  German  monk.  "  I  had  hidden  it  in  my  girdle- 
pocket,  in  order  not  to  be  separated  from  it,  when  I  entered  upon 
my  course  with  Livio  Savelli ;  so  I  can  give  it  to  you." 

Brother  Martin  took  it  from  her  and  opened  it.  It  contained  a 
number  of  closely-written  leaves  of  parchment  written  in  Latin,  in 
German,  also  in  Greek,  and  in  a  writing  which  Martin  was  not  able 
to  read  —  it  was  Arabic,  as  Corradina  explained.  The  words  of  the 
Apostle,  "Do  not  quench  the  Spirit,"  was  inscribed  upon  the  inner 
side  of  the  cover. 

When  Brother  Martin  would  have  immediately  buried  himself  in 
the  book,  Egino,  laying  his  hand  upon  it,  said  :  — 

"  Not  now,  friend  Martin ;  you  still  belong  to  us  for  awhile. 
Help  and  advise  us  for  our  flight,  which  must  take  place  even  this 
very  night.  And,  above  all,  tell  us  about  how  Irmgard  is,  and  how  I 
can  see  her ;  for  I  cannot  go  away  from  here  with  my  breast  full  of 
happiness  and  blessing  without  having  thanked  her,  without  having 
spoken  to  her,  without  having  comforted  her.  That  is  impossible  ! " 

"  You  will  do  that  in  spite  of  the  mortal  danger  to  which  you  would 
thereby  be  exposed  ?  "  asked  Brother  Martin. 

"Certainly  I  will.  I  can  even  rejoice  in  the  danger  to  which  I 
thereby  expose  myself ;  for  by  that,  Irmgard  can  measure  how  much 
and  with  what  sacred  duty  I  feel  myself  under  obligation  to  her." 

341 


342  LUTHER    AY   ROME. 

Brother  Martin  looked  at  him  anxiously,  and  then  turned  his  glance 
as  if  questioningly  upon  Corradina,  while  Callisto  remarked :  — 

"  Whoever  is  your  friend  must  detain  you  by  force  from  this  ven- 
turesome undertaking.  You  know  even  now  that  my  house  is,  per- 
haps, surrounded  by  spies  and  guarded  on  your  account ;  that  the 
gates  are  possessed  by  soldiers  ;  exact  descriptions  of  your  person 
will  be  received  by  the  watchmen.  A  crowd  of  people  and  clients  of 
the  Savelli  and  the  Colonna  are  seeking  for  your  track,  not  to  think 
of  the  bailiffs  which  the  monks  will  have  bidden  to  search  for  you." 

Egino  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  must!"  he  said.  "There  is  something  in  me  which  bids  me 
do  it.  I  cannot  resist  it  even  if  I  must  go  through  flames  to  reach 
Irmgard. 

"And  you,  Countess, — you  are  silent,  too  ?  You  do  not  assist 
me  ?  Speak;  forbid  him  to  do  it  !  "  exclaimed  Callisto,  stirred  up. 

Corradina  shook  her  head. 

"I  have  nothing  to  forbid,  my  lord,"  she  said  in  a  low  and  sub- 
dued tone.  "  I  know  only  one  thing,  —  that  where  a  mortal  danger 
threatens  him  I  must  be  at  his  side.  I  will  go  with  him." 

"Corradina,  you  would  do  that  !  "  cried  Egino.  "That,  —  no,  that 
I  cannot  surfer  ?  " 

"And  yet  you  will  be  obliged  to  do  so,  Egino,"  she  answered. 
"  If  there  is  something  in  you  which  bids  you  so  powerfully  to  go, 
so  there  is  something  in  me  which  bids  me  accompany  you  upon 
this  course.  Our  fates  are  united  from  now  on,  for  good  and  for 
evil  days.  Do  not  oppose  it ;  it  would  avail  nothing  !  " 

Signer  Callisto  turned  away  indignant  and  angry.  He  washed 
his  hands  in  innocency.  Now  had  this  clear-thinking  Egino  even 
yet  changed  himself  into  a  crazy,  stubborn-pated  German  !  Callisto 
left  the  room,  and  left  it  to  them  to  talk  together  over  the  way 
and  manner  in  which  they  would  pursue  their  course.  It  could  only 
be  risked  in  the  darkness  of  the  evening,  —  only  in  some  kind 
of  disguise.  They  could  go  as  a  pair  of  people  from  the  peasantry. 
Callisto's  old  gardener  had,  without  doubt,  a  costume  to  lend  to 
Egino  ;  Donna  Ottavia's  maid,  who  went  clothed  in  the  garb  of  the 
women  of  the  Sabine  Mountains,  had  one  for  Corradina.  If  Egino 
had  been  able  to  procure  the  costume  of  a  common  horseman,  it 
would  have  suited  him  best  ;  but  whence  to  get  it  ?  One  must  take 
that  which  was  most  easily  procured  ;  and  so  Donna  Ottavia 
was  bidden  to  speak  with  the  gardener  and  the  maid.  She  did 


LUTHER    IX   ROME.  343 

it,  and  after  a  short  time  she  herself  brought  in  the  costume  of  the 
maid  for  Corradina. 

At  the  time  of  the  evening  meal,  between  seven  and  nine  o'clock 
according  to  our  reckoning,  the  streets  of  Rome  are  least  frequented 
and  most  quiet.  It  was  this  time,  the  hour  of  approaching  night, 
which  Egino  and  Corradina  chose  for  their  purpose.  Brother 
Martin  departed ;  he  took  it  upon  himself  to  inform  Irmgard. 
He  would  himself  be  on  the  Quirinal  in  the  evening  and  take  leave 
of  the  friends,  who,  directly  from  there,  would  make  their  way 
to  Sant  Agnese,  and  enter  into  liberty,  into  the  land  of  their  nativity. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

AT    THE    COUCH    OF    IRMGARD. 

ROTHER  MARTIN  on  his  way  home  from  Callisto's  villa, 
had  arrived  at  his  cloister  at  the  hour  of  midday.  He 
had  gone  in  to  partake  of  his  meal  with  his  comrades  of 
the  order.  During  the  meal  he  had  informed  the  prior,  in 
a  few  words,  of  his  visit  to  Padre  Anselmo,  just  as  he  had  previously 
informed  him  of  his  audience  with  Pope  JuliusII., —  in  few  words,  and 
exactly  what  he  considered  sufficient  for  the  comprehension  of  the 
honest,  but  wholly  uncultivated  man. 

He  had  always,  from  the  beginning,  held  himself  aloof  from  these 
Roman  order-brethren,  who  so  thoroughly  displeased  him.  He  pre- 
tended in  their  presence  that  he  did  not  understand  how  to  express 
himself  in  Italian,  and  spoke  only  Latin  with  them.  They  did  not 
like  this  kind  of  entertainment,  and  let  him  alone. 

After  the  meal  he  had  gone  into  his  cell,  there  to  rest  during  the 
hot  noon  hour,  although  it  was  contrary  to  his  German  nature  to 
sleep  at  this  hour  of  the  day,  as  did  the'  other  monks.  The  eager- 
ness to  bury  himself  in  the  little  book  given  to  him  by  Corradina 
was,  besides,  too  powerful  in  him  for  him  not  to  forget  everything 
else  for  that.  With  it  he  threw  himself  upon  the  bed  in  his  cell  and 
read  it, —  read  till  his  head  was  hot,  till  his  pulses  throbbed  in  his 
temples,  so  that  he  forgot  the  world  and  time  around  him. 

Finally,  Luther  sprang  up.  He  must  get  air ;  he  must  take  breath, 
and  snatch  himself  from  the  whirlpool  of  thoughts  which  went 
through  his  brain, —  which  took  deep  hold  upon  his  innermost  being, 
and  now  threw  as  if  a  fearful,  suffocating  burden  upon  his  soul ;  now 
again  kindled  as  if  a  flaming  fire  in  him,  as  an  impulse  to  utter  words 
of  terrifying  import, —  an  impulse  to  contest,  to  action,  to  blood,  and 
to  death  for  the  deed.  His  whole  combative  nature  was  kindled  to- 
the  highest  degree  by  this  book.  And  had  Innocent  IV.,  the  de- 
stroyer of  the  Hohenstaufens,  himself  stood  before  him  in  this 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  345 

instant,  he  would  have  felt  himself  man  enough  to  force  him  down, 
like  Saint  Michael. 

He  had  sighed  for  a  word,  for  a  saving  word  for  humanity,  which 
seemed  to  him  enticed  by  some  evil  magic  from  the  path  of  truth 
into  that  of  error.  And  now  it  seemed  to  him  there  lay  not  one,  no, 
a  whole  stream  of  words  upon  his  lips  and  in  his  heart ;  as  if  he  need 
only  walk  out  into  the  world,  mount  the  nearest  pulpit  in  every 
assembly  of  men,  and  there  cry  out  what  flashed  up  to  him,  in  order 
to  set  free  this  poor  beast  of  mankind  which  lay  upon  the  ground 
and  did  not  move,  because  some  one  had  made  a  chalk-mark  upon  its 
neck  in  order  to  make  clear  to  it  that  what  bound  it  was  only  a 
chalk-mark.  Was  it  then  possible  that  this  magic,  which  was  no 
magic  at  all,  which  consisted,  not  in  the  enchanting  power  of  the 
oppressor,  but  in  the  blindness  of  the  oppressed,  would  not  be 
dissolved  if  he  should  open  the  eyes  of  the  blind  ?  if  he  should  pro- 
nounce the  formula  of  exorcism,  as  this  book  taught  it  to  him  ?  if  he 
should  arouse  his  slumbering  Germany  with  the  thunder-cry  of 
reason,  with  the  full  bell-chorus  of  the  soul,  with  the  alarm-peal  of 
patriotism  ? 

For  it  was  this  which  pealed  forth  for  himself  out  of  this  book 
that  he  held  in  his  hands,  out  of  this  precious  legacy  of  the  great 
German  emperor ;  this  triple-note  blending  into  one  full  chord,  now 
roaring  through  his  soul  like  the  distinct  crash  of  war,  mighty  and 
victory  announcing,  and  moving  his  whole  being  so  much  the  more 
powerfully  because  it  had  only  awakened  therein  what  had  so  long 
quietly  slumbered  there.  The  cry  of  intellect,  of  soul,  of  patriotism, 
when  hurled  crashing  as  a  three-forked  lightning  among  the  Ger- 
man people,  must  be  irresistible  ! 

His  heart  filled  to  overflowing,  his  head  dizzy  with  all  these 
thoughts,  Luther  left  the  cloister. 

Even  if  this  had  not  driven  him  irresistibly  out  of  his  narrow  cell 
into  the  open  air,  he  would  not  have  forgotten  what  he  had 
promised, —  to  make  his  way  to  the  Ouirinal,  to  the  sick-bed  of  Irm- 
gard. 

He  now  walked  rapidly  and  energetically  thither  by  the  shortest 
way. 

When  he  came  near  the  Colonna  Palace,  he  saw  in  the  vestibule 
of  the  antiquated  structure  of  the  Pope's  Pelagius,  the  Church  of  the 
Holy  Apostles,  which  lay  close  to  the  palace,  a  host  of  armed  men, 
who  had  their  halberds  and  guns  leaning  against  the  walls,  and  were 


346  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

playing  morris,  or  stooped  over  an  antique  sarcophagus,  were  throw- 
ing dice  upon  it.  They  had  evidently  quartered  themselves  there. 
Brother  Martin  could  interpret  the  purpose  of  their  being  in  this 
place ;  Father  Anselmo  had  explained  it  to  him  :  in  the  Colonna 
Palace  dwelt  the  Duke  of  Ferrara;  for  this  reason  the  exit  from 
the  palace  was  already  guarded  ! 

Brother  Martin  walked  farther  up  the  hill ;  he  reached  the  little 
garden  and  house  of  Frau  Giulietta ;  the  door  was  locked.  When  he 
knocked,  the  widow  herself  opened  it ;  she  stuck  her  head  through 
the  crevice  of  the  door,  and  in  her  countenance  was  to  be  read  alarm 
and  excitement.  Quieted  by  the  sight  of  the  monk,  she  opened  the 
door  wider,  and  whispered  :  — 

"  Is  it  you,  brother  !  You  come  into  a  house  of  mourning  ;  step 
in  quickly." 

She  hastily  locked  the  door  again  behind  him. 

Brother  Martin,  walking  into  the  kitchen,  looked  through  the  open 
door  into  Beppo's  room,  and  saw  Beppo  standing  there.  He  pre- 
sented a  strange  appearance  :  he  stood  as  if  immovable,  supporting 
himself  with  one  hand  upon  the  back  of  a  chair  and  staring  at  the 
floor,  with  his  features  distorted  by  grief ;  besides,  he  had  a  long 
rapier  with  a  heavy  pocket-pistol  in  his  other  hand,  and  an  iron  hel- 
met lay  upon  the  chair,  upon  the  back  of  which  he  was  leaning. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Mother  Giulietta?"  asked  Brother 
Martin.  "  It  appears  as  if  your  son  must  be  going  out  armed  and 
equipped  into  battle,  and  you  are  grieving  over  it  —  you  make  such  a 
sorrowful  face  !  Is  it  so  ?  Or  what  then  has  happened  ?  " 

"  Hush,  hush  !  "  whispered  Frau  Giulietta,  in  turn  ;  "  no  one  must 
find  it  out.  The  clients  of  the  Colonna  have  been  secretly  called  out. 
The  poor  youth,  however  faithfully  he  wished  to  stay  with  me, 
must  now  go,  and  that  even  to-day,  when  I  need  him  so,  and  when 
he  is  so  crushed  and  despairing  about  the  death  of  the  poor  girl  now 
lying  so  cold  and  still  in  there " 

"  Irmgard  is  dead  ? "  cried  Brother  Martin,  startled  and  agitated. 

"  Truly  she  is  dead ;  she  died  at  midday.  If  you  had  come  earlier 
she  could  have  been  confessed  by  you,  and  have  received  from  you 
the  holy  eucharist  also.  As  it  is,  however,  she  has  gone  hence  without 
confession  or  sacrament ;  indeed,  she  would  not  hear  to  it  that  I 
should  bring  hither  the  curate  from  Sant  Apostoli,  and  Beppo  stood 
by  her,  and  the  dwarf  would  not  permit  it  either.  The  dwarf  said  if 
the  curate  were  brought  he  would  be  betrayed  and  sold  out ;  and  so 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  347 

it  stands  with  the  poor  soul  there  now  on  the  earth.  And  what  will 
become  of  her  up  there  in  our  Saviour's  heaven,  when  she  comes  in 
without  sacrament,  or  anointing,  or  absolution  of  sins,  God  only 
knows  ;  but  he  will  not  call  me  to  account  for  it,  for  I  am  innocent 
in  the  matter,  —  I  am  as  innocent  in  it  as  the  youngest  of  the  chil- 
dren whom  the  cruel  Herod  had  slain  in  Bethlehem  !  " 

During  this  flow  of  speech  on  the  part  of  his  mother,  Beppo  had 
long  since  stepped  forward  and  had  mutely  opened  the  door  to  Irm- 
gard's  room  before  Brother  Martin.  The  latter  stepped  in  softly. 

He  saw  Irmgard's  corpse  lying  upon  the  bed.  The  features  of  the 
young  girl,  pale  as  wax,  appeared  to  him  infinitely  beautiful.  It  was 
as  if  the  whole  rich  and  noble  angelic  soul,  before  its  departure,  had 
entered  into  these  features,  and  had  given  to  this  sleeping  count- 
enance its  moving  and  peculiarly  fascinating  expression. 

"Was  she  so  beautiful?"  asked  Brother  Martin,  astonished,  feel- 
ing the  tears  upon  his  lashes.  "  How  beautiful  is  the  human  soul  — 
the  pure  human  soul !  " 

He  wiped  the  moisture  from  his  eyes  and  looked  at  Uncle  Kraps. 
The  latter  sat  upon  his  chair  near  the  bed,  stared  at  the  floor,  and 
muttered  unintelligible  words  between  his  teeth  :  he  appeared  as  if 
deprived  of  his  senses. 

Brother  Martin  seated  himself  upon  a  stool  in  the  window-niche. 
He  supported  his  head  upon  his  hand,  and  thus  gazed  upon  the 
features  of  the  dead. 

The  sight  of  this  countenance  had  for  him  something  overpowering. 

"  How  is  the  human  soul  so  beautiful !  And  how  infinitely  sad  is 
her  lot !  So  sad  that  the  best  thing  for  her  was  death  ! " 

She  had  passed  over  into  eternal  rest,  —  into  the  blessed  beyond. 
She  was  with  God.  Could  it  be  otherwise  ?  She  had  not  died  in  the 
faith  of  the  church.  She  had  not  been  provided  with  the  baggage 
of  the  soul,  —  had  died  without  sacrament  or  anointing,  as  Frau 
Giiilietta  complained.  But  she  had  loved  her  brother  in  the  spirit, 
her  Christ,  and  had  died  in  a  deed  of  love.  Should  God  thrust  from 
himself  this  pure  soul,  because  she  came  to  him  without  the  works 
of  a  priest  ?  Could  the  Eternal,  Infinite  Spirit  turn  himself  from 
her,  because  upon  the  brow  of  the  corpse  did  not  glisten  a  little 
fatty  matter  from  an  oil  placed  there  by  a  priest  ?  It  was  a  fearful, 
a  horrible  idea,  a  boundless  illusion,  —  a  dreadful  blasphemy ! 

Martin  arose  suddenly ;  it  made  him  quake  in  all  his  members,  — 
this  fearful  illusion  that  the  pardon,  the  love  of  the  great  Creator  of 


348  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

the  universe,  of  the  All-merciful,  of  the  Father  of  the  world,  would 
be  determined  by  such  insignificant  outer  actions  and  works ! 

He  kissed  Irmgard's  cold  brow,  and  then  hastened  away ;  he  was 
too  much  moved  to  take  leave  of  Frau  Giulietta  and  Beppo  other- 
wise than  with  a  pressure  of  the  hand.  The  latter  still  seemed  self- 
absorbed  as  his  mother  was  cleansing  from  dust  an  old,  leathern 
rider's  doublet  for  his  use. 

"  I  will  come  again,  —  I  will  come  again  to  help  you  about  the  burial 
and  with  the  old  man.  Let  me  go  now ;  something  else  presses  me," 
he  said,  while  he  tore  out  for  himself  the  bolt  of  the  door  and 
hastened  outside. 

To  sit  by  the  dead  body  of  one  who  had  become  dear  to  him,  and 
become  absorbed  in  the  quiet  melancholy,  in  the  tender  sadness  sur- 
rounding such  a  death,  —  was  he  allowed  even  that  ?  No ;  if  he 
heeded  the  mission  whose  call  he  felt  within  him,  the  time  was  past 
for  him  to  do  this.  He  must  also  be  able  to  say,  "  Let  the  dead  bury 
their  dead  !  "  That  is  a  hard  command  !  You  shall  sacrifice  your 
feelings  for  the  deed  you  have  to  accomplish.  You  shall,  on  its  ac- 
count, rend  asunder  a  thousand  bands  of  love  enclasping  and  holding 
you  back.  You  shall  no  more  exercise  the  anxiety  of  love,  no  more 
be  allowed  to  trouble  yourself  about  the  little  circle  surrounding  you 
with  tenderness.  You  shall  rely  upon  yourself,  and  be  entirely  with 
and  in  yourself.  You  shall  be  spanned  about  with  threefold  brass, 
and  with  the  inflexible  egotism  of  the  hero,  speak  the  great,  inexo- 
rable word,  "  Let  the  dead  bury  their  dead." 

When  he  stepped  through  the  inclosing  hedge  of  the  little  garden 
he  struck  against  a  monk,  who  came  slipping  along  the  hedge  and 
stepped  up  to  him.  He  was  in  the  black-and-white  habit  of  St. 
Dominicus,  — a  lean  man,  with  an  olive-hued  face  and  small,  blinking 
eyes. 

"Eh,  Fra  Agostino,"  he  whispered,  "listen,  now,  listen!  That  is 
the  house  of  Frau  Giulietta,  the  widow,  is  it  not  ?  .  What  were  you 
doing  there  ?  Do  two  Germans  dwell  there, —  an  old,  deformed  man, 
and  a  girl  who  came  in  the  disguise  of  a  lad  to  the  Hospizio  dell* 
Anima  ?  Do  they  really  dwell  there  ?  You  can  tell  me  ;  I  am  from 
Santa  Minerva,  and  the  Sant  Uffizio  wishes  to  know  whether " 

"  If  the  Sant  Uffizio  is  hunting  for  the  maiden,"  answered  Brother 
Martin  harshly,  "  it  comes  too  late  ;  the  maiden  is  dead." 

"  Dead  ?  Ah  !  is  she  dead  ?  Is  she  really  dead  ?  Then  the  old 
man  will  wish  to  have  masses  read  for  her  soul.  The  old  man  has 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  349 

brought  money  here  with  him.  Has  he  already  ordered  the  masses  ? 
Have  you  already  taken  them  away  from  us  ?  You  Augustines  — 
one  encounters  you  everywhere  !  As  if  they  would  not  have  been 
better  read  in  Santa  Minerva  than " 

Martin  listened  no  further.  He  turned  his  back.  He  made  haste 
to  get  away  from  the  neighborhood  of  the  man.  As  out  of  a  pesti- 
lential atmosphere,  he  was  impelled  to  get  away,  as  if  there  he 
must  be  seized  by  the  perniciosa,  with  which  the  old  man  with  the 
donkey  had  threatened  him, —  the  perniciosa  of  the  corroding,  destroy- 
ing poison  which  he  then  felt  in  his  bones  upon  the  road  over  the 
desolate  height. 

Even  before  that  must  Luther  now  flee.  He  must  be  entirely 
and  undividedly  to  himself.  He  did  not  dare  to  allow  himself  barked 
at  again  by  the  dog  of  Doubt,  which  snarled  upon  him  out  of  the 
olive-yellow  face  of  the  Dominican.  Such  a  mass-reading  priest  was 
in  the  condition  to  throw  him  back  into  the  despair  of  unbelief, 
into  doubt  about  everything.  He  must  do  away  with  whatever 
could  break  in  upon  his  strength  of  action.  He  must  cling  to  his 
Christ,  and  give  back  to  the  world  alive  him  whom  the  church  had 
slain  :  the  well-known  God-man,  the  well-known  Christ,  as  the  Bible 
gave  him,  not  as  a  doubtful  thinking  spiritualized  him  to  a  phantom. 
Had  he  not  read  to-day  in  his  book,  the  book  of  the  emperor :  "  The 
hand  can  lay  hold  of  no  puff  of  air  ;  the  senses  of  man  can  seize  upon 
no  phantom  of  an  idea.  One  cannot  pray  to  the  '  creative  idea '  of 
Plato  or  Aristotle's  'universal  power  of  formation.'  Religion  is  the 
claim  of  a  something  eternal.  The  teaching  of  philosophy,  however, 
is  always  changing.  It  is  as  the  wave  which  seizes  us,  lifts  us  up 
or  throws  us  under,  and  rushes  away  over  us,  in  order  to  lose 
itself  in  the  stream  of  the  ages.  Give  to  the  world,  also,  no  unknown 
God.  As  Paul  preached  to  the  Athenians  the  unknown  God,  they 
would  not  have  listened  to  him  if  he  had  not  spoken  to  them  of  a 
God  long  known  to  their  hearts,  whom  they  had  unconsciously 
borne  about  and  longed  for  in  spirit.  Man  had  need  of  the  old, 
familiar  fire  that  he  might  warm  himself  :  the  reflection  imprisoned 
in  the  mirror  may  dazzle  us,  but  it  does  not  thaw  out  our  limbs  !" 

The  next  thing  lying  in  the  way  for  Brother  Martin  to  do  was  now 
to  go  out  to  Callisto's  house,  to  bring  thither  the  news  of  Irmgard's 
death.  He  dare  not  delay  to  make  it  known  to  Egino  and  Corradina, 
so  they  need  no  longer  enter  upon  their  course  into  the  city,  which 
might  become  so  fatal  to  them. 


350  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

Therefore  he  walked  the  shortest  way  to  the  Porta  del  Popolo 
again.  As  he  came  nearer  to  it  he  perceived  that  an  unusually 
strong  body  of  armed  people  lingered  under  the  gate-arch  and  sat 
upon  the  stone  benches  at  the  sides.  Was  that  also  on  account  of 
the  Duke  of  Ferrara  ?  Certainly ;  and  it  could  not  trouble  him,  the 
poor  monk.  He  quietly  entered  the  crowd. 

A  Swiss  soldier  extended  his  halberd  toward  him. 

"Whither,  little  monk?     You  cannot  pass  out!  "  he  said. 

"  Is  that  the  order  ?  "  asked  Brother  Martin,  in  German.  "  Why, — 
for  what  purpose  ?  " 

The  Swiss  replaced  the  halberd  upon  his  shoulder,  and  when  he 
perceived  the  sounds  peculiar  to  his  fatherland,  he  answered  less 
harshly  :  — 

"  It  is  the  order,  so  trudge  back.  Anyone  may  come  in  who  will, 
but  no  one  may  go  out." 

"  Not  even  a  harmless  monk  like  myself  ?  " 

"No  ;  go  !" 

"  Is  it  on  account  of  the  Duke  of  Ferrara  ?  You  see,  countryman, 
that  I  am  not  the  duke  —  and  I  also  do  not  carry  him.  in  my  gown  ! " 

"  In  what  strange  tongue  is  that  monk  talking?  Is  it  German?" 
here  said  a  gray-bearded  ruffian  having  the  appearance  of  a  bandit, 
with  a  long  knife  in  his  girdle.  "  Perhaps  is  hidden  under  his  gown 
the  fellow  whom  we  seek.  Come  here,  Fra  Tedesco,  and  let  us  see 
you  under  the  eyes." 

The  man  stretched  out  his  arm  to  lay  it  upon  the  shoulder  of 
Brother  Martin  ;  the  latter  moved  back,  and  the  Swiss  soldier 
interposed  :  — 

"Go,  Lanfranco  ;  let  him  alone  !  He  is  a  German  countryman,  and 
may  go  free  whence  he  came." 

Brother  Martin  found  it  advisable  to  withdraw  himself  quickly 
from  the  crowd,  and  get  out  cf  their  sight.  The  servant  of  the  Sa- 
velli  did  not  pursue  him.  Lanfranco,  indeed,  had  an  eye  for  the  gait 
of  a  monk ;  he  could  see  that  the  gown  was  no  disguise  with  Brother 
Martin. 

But  now,  how  begin  ?  How  warn  Egino  ?  The  other  neighboring 
gates  were  certainly  guarded  in  the  same  manner.  And  the  walls 
were  no  more  to  be  leaped  over,  as  Remus  had  once  done ;  they 
were  high,  strong,  and  not  to  be  scaled.  Truly,  quite  near,  at  the 
Strasze  Ripetta,  one  could  be  put  across  the  river ;  beyond  the  river 
there  was  no  wall.  But  as  the  gates  were  guarded,  no  doubt  the 


LUTHER    IN  ROME.  351 

bridges  and  ferries  were  also  watched.  There  was  nothing  left  ex- 
cept to  walk  up  the  Pincian  Mountain  to  the  city  wall  running  along 
its  precipice,  to  walk  along  this  and  seek  a  place  where  a  fallen  por- 
tion or  a  portion  undergoing  repair  might  pres.ent  the  possibility  of 
getting  out. 

Brother  Martin  climbed  the  Pincian  Hill,  then  turned  to  the  city 
wall  and  walked  along  beside  it  without  seeing  his  hopes  fulfilled. 
He  came  farther  and  farther :  he  passed  the  Porta  Salara,  the  Porta 
Agnese  ;  both  were  watched  by  an  unusually  strong  force  of  soldiers  ; 
'  the  road  was  long  and  bad,  full  of  obstacles,  which  he  must  mount 
or  go  around. 

Thus  it  grew  darker  and  darker  while  Brother  Martin,  in  haste  and 
anxiety,  continued  his  walk.  When  he  came  to  the  Porta  di  Sant 
Agnese,  he  saw  that  his  design  must  be  relinquished.  If  he  were  to 
get  out  now,  the  road  from  here  to  Callisto's  villa  was  too  long  for 
him  still  to  arrive  there  at  the  right  time,  even  supposing  that  he  did 
not  get  lost  in  the  neighborhood  so  entirely  unknown  to  him. 

So  he  gave  up  his  intention.  He  decided  to  go  home  by  the 
shortest  road.  Walking  with  weary  step,  his  heart  oppressed  with 
uneasiness,  he  had  reached  the  Baths  of  Diocletian,  whose  ruins 
then  still  stretched  to  the  place  where  the  Fountain  Aqua  Felice 
murmurs. 

There  a  man  met  him,  who  went  slowly  past  him  covered  with  a 
mantle,  with  the  rim  of  his  hat  drawn  down  low  over  his  face.  It 
was  too  dark  to  recognize  the  shaded  features.  But  the  form,  the 
carriage,  reminded  Brother  Martin  so  much  of  Signor  Callisto,  that 
he  stopped  and  turned  his  head  to  look  after  him.  The  man  had 
also  stopped  to  look  back  at  Brother  Martin.  Now  he  came  back  to 
the  latter,  and  looking  into  his  eyes,  he  said  :  — 

"Eh,  Brother  Martin,  is  it  you  ?  "     It  was  the  voice  of  Callisto. 

"  It  is  I  —  and  I  meet  you  here,  Signor  Callisto  ?  What  has 
happened  to  lead  you,  in  night  and  darkness,  to  this  deserted  neigh- 
borhood ?  " 

"That  is  easily  explained,  good  brother.  I  have  yielded  to  the 
desire  of  our  young  friend,  as  we  elders,  in  the  end,  are  always 
obliged  to  do  in  the  presence  of  passionate  youth ;  and  after  what  I 
have  already  done,  am  striving  to  help  them  further  in  every  way,  in 
order  that  he  and  Corradina  may  get  away  from  here  and  out  of 
Rome.  The  most  needful  articles  for  them  both  are  packed  upon 
my  horse,  and  my  gardener  has  been  sent  away  with  them  out  to 


352  LUTHER    IN  ROME. 

Baccano  ;  there  he  is  to  await  them  at  a  quiet,  out-of-the-way  inn. 
They  both  are  to  be  in  disguise ;  I  have  myself  seen  how  my  Ottavia 
was  assisting  the  Countess  Corradina.to  transform  herself  into  a 
most  stately  maiden  of  the  common  folk.  Then  I  tore  myself  away, 
as  the  twilight  was  approaching,  and  have  leisurely  ridden  hither  in 
advance  of  them.  When  they  come  from  Irmgard  they  will  turn  this 
way ;  we  are  to  meet  here  ;  I  am  then  to  lead  them  through  the  near- 
est gate  into  the  open  air  and  upon  circuitous  paths  so  far  as  nec- 
essary  " 

"You  are  to  conduct  them  through  the  nearest  gate,  Signor 
Callisto  ?  My  God !  so  you  do  not  know  — " 

"  That  the  gates  are  more  strongly  guarded  than  usual  ? 
Certainly,  I  have  noticed  that,  as  I  was  coming  in ;  but  what  is  that 
to  us  ?  They  are  the  Pope's  Swiss  ;  that  has  to  do  with  the  Duke  of 
Ferrara." 

"  No ;  it  has  to  do  with  all !  " 

"All?" 

"So  surely,  that  you  will  seek  in  vain  to  get  out  to  pass  the  night 
under  your  own  roof  !  " 

"  Ah  !  —  how  do  you  know  that  ?  " 

"I  have  myself  already  tried  to  get  out,  and  have  been  chased 
back !  " 

"That  is  a  bad,  a  dreadfully  bad  cross-stroke.  Then  our  plan 
of  flight  goes  to  the  ground.  What,  then,  shall  we  do  ?  "  exclaimed 
Callisto. 

"  I  have  tortured  my  brain  with  this  question  for  more  than 
an  hour ! " 

"The  unhappy  Egino,  with  his  German  stubbornness!"  said 
the  lawyer. 

"Do  not  chide  him.  He  was  right  in  his  desire.  The  saddest 
thing  about  it  is  he  has  quite  uselessly  brought  himself  into  this 
unfortunately  dangerous  situation,  for  he  comes  to  Irmgard  too  late. 
She  is  dead." 

"Dead?" 

"She  died  to-day,  at  noon." 

"Then  it  seems  just  as  if  a  wicked  demon  has  control  over 
the  poor  young  man  !  " 

"  Indeed  it  does  ;  as  if  a  real  defiance  of  fate ! "  answered  Brother 
Martin. 

"  What  shall  we  undertake  in  order  to  help  him  ?  " 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  353 

"  I  know  now  only  one  thing  to  advise.  Let  us  hasten  to  the 
liouse  of  Frau  Giulietta.  There  we  shall  perhaps  find  him,  and 
advise  together  whither  we  shall  bring  him  and  the  countess  till  this 
unfortunate  closing  of  the  gates  comes  to  an  end." 

"Yes,  yes,"  exclaimed  Callisto ;  "let  us  hasten  thither;  let  us 
hasten  thither  this  moment !  " 

They  both  moved  quickly  away  through  the  darkness.  Callisto 
walked  in  advance,  Brother  Martin  after  him  with  weary  feet.  The 
road  was  not  too  long.  They  saw  already  the  dark  outline  of 
Constantine's  Baths  emerge  before  them,  also  the  high  wall  of 
the  Colonna  Gardens,  when  they  suddenly  perceived  the  sound 
of  hoofs  and  the  clatter  of  weapons.  A  troop  of  horsemen 
.sprang  toward  them  ;  they  had  scarcely  time  to  throw  themselves  to 
one  side.  When  they  then  hastened  quickly  forward  they  perceived 
a  still  stronger  troop,  a  confusion  of  men  and  horses,  and  the 
loud  rattling  of  weapons. 

Before  we  set  about  explaining  this,  let  us  turn  back  to  Egino  and 
Corradina. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THROUGH ! 

IT  was  about  Ave  Maria  when  Egino  and  Corradina  entered 
upon  their  venturesome  undertaking.  Signer  Callisto, 
as  he  said,  had  already  left  the  villa  ;  Donna  Ottavia, 
after  having  changed  Corradina  into  a  peasant-maid,  had 
embraced  her  with  moist  eyes,  had  again  drawn  the  green  apron  in 
folds  over  the  heavy  budget,  and  tied  the  heavy  shoes  more  securely, 
and  then  had  taken  leave  of  her  and  Egino  with  most  heartfelt  and 
touching  wishes  for  their  happiness. 

And  so,  some  minutes  after  Callisto  had  left  the  villa,  Egino  and 
Corradina  stepped  through  its  gate  out  on  the  Flaminian  Way  and 
walked  leisurely  to  the  Porta  del  Popolo.  They  carried  by  turns  a 
basket  filled  with  vegetables  and  early  fruit. 

The  city  gate  appeared  free.  Only  when  they  had  passed  through 
did  they  see  on  the  inside,  right  as  well  as  left,  upon  the  stone 
benches,  a  crowd  of  armed  watchmen,  perhaps  thirty  or  forty  men,, 
soldiers  and  bandits,  whose  long  guns  leaned  against  the  wall. 

The  guards  had  taken  no  notice  of  those  coming  in.  Only  when 
they  were  some  steps  beyond  them,  one  of  the  bandits,  a  gray- 
bearded  man,  looking  after  them,  said  :  — 

"  Who  are  those  two  ?  " 

"  Who  should  they  be,  Lanfranco  ?  Gardeners,  who  bring  vegeta- 
bles to  a  palace,"  responded  another  in  the  same  bandit  costume. 

Lanfranco  shook  his  head. 

"  They  have  not  the  gait  or  the  crooked  backs  of  gardening  peo- 
ple," he  said,  and  got  up,  while  he  added  :  — 

"  Run  after  them  and  look  into  their  faces,  Niccolo ;  you  must 
know  your  Countess  Corradina." 

"  Oh  bah  !  "  said  Niccolo ;  "  I  will  take  care  not  to  run  needlessly. 
We  are  to  see  that  they  do  not  come  out  of  the  city,  if  they  are  still 

354 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  355 

in  there.  If  they  are  outside,  they  will  certainly  not  come  in,  com- 
rade." 

"Who  knows?"  muttered  Lanfranco,  sullenly,  between  his  teeth. 

Then  he  cried  out  :  — 

"  Hey,  you  there, — people  !     Here  now  !  " 

Egino  turned  his  head.  Corradina  quickened  her  step,  and  then 
Egino  also  walked  on  more  rapidly. 

"The  lass  has  no  desire  to  allow  herself  chucked  under  the  chin 
by  you  ;  you  are  too  ugly  to  her  with  your  uncombed  beard,  comrade 
Lanfranco !  "  exclaimed  Niccolo,  and  the  other  guards  laughed. 

Comrade  Lanfranco,  however,  had  now  for  once  had  his  suspicion 
aroused,  and  he  did  not  allow  himself  moved  from  it  by  his  compan- 
ions. He  pursued  the  pair. 

His  sandals  were  soft,  the  street  unpaved,  so  his  step  remained 
inaudible.  Soon  they  also  reached  an  inhabited  street,  where  traffic, 
though  now  less,  had  not  yet  died  out,  and  this  made  it  more  diffi- 
cult to  notice  such  pursuit. 

Egino  and  Corradina  moved  on  rapidly.  At  length  they  reached 
the  foot  of  the  Quirinal  Hill,  and  climbed  with  slower  pace.  Two 
fellows  having  the  appearance  of  bandits  met  them  ;  the  two  were 
chatting  together  in  an  animated  way,  and  did  not  notice  the  fugi- 
tives. The  latter  soon  beheld  the  ruins  of  the  Baths  of  Constantine 
close  before  them.  Suddenly,  however,  they  heard  a  cry  behind  them. 

Egino  looked  around  in  surprise,  since  he  thought  he  recognized 
the  same  voice  which  had  already  called  to  him  before  at  the  gate. 
He  saw  the  two  bandits  who  had  just  passed  him,  in  company  with 
a  third,  hastening  after  him  ;  what  they  were  calling  out  he  did  not 
understand. 

"  Let  us  flee, —  let  us  flee  !  "  whispered  Corradina,  in  alarm. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Egino  ;  "  not  that  !  They  would  overtake  us,  and 
then  it  would  be  so  much  worse  for  us.  We  must  remain  calm,  and 
try  to  deceive  them  ;  but  you  must  talk  with  them,  because  I  might 
betray  myself  by  the  strikingly  foreign  accent  of  my  speech." 

Seemingly  calm  they  continued  their  way,  and  came  almost  to  a 
high-towering,  black  corner  of  the  wall  of  the  baths,  which  here 
projected  to  the  road.  Still,  before  they  had  quite  reached  the  spot 
where  the  road  ran  around  this  corner  of  the  wall,  the  three  men, 
calling  and  abusing  them,  had  caught  up.  Corradina,  turning  to 
them,  while  Egino  seized  the  handle  of  a  dagger  in  his  breast-pocket, 
said  :  — 


356  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

"  What  do  you  wish,  people  ?  If  you  are  gentlemen,  let  us  go  and 
bring  these  fruits  to  the  Colonna  palace ;  we  are  poor  gardeners, 
that  you  see  truly " 

"The  Devil!"  exclaimed  one  of  the  three,  no  one  else  but  Lan- 
franco,  who  had  found  in  the  two  others  good  friends,  and  appeared 
to  have  had  them  join  him  in  order  to  end  the  wearisome  pursuit, 
and  to  assure  himself  whether  or  not  his  suspicion  had  grounds; 
"the  Devil!  I  will  swallow  your  vegetables  there  uncooked  and  the 
basket  thrown  in,  if  that  is  true  !  " 

With  that  he  laid  his  fist  upon  Corradina's  shoulder,  and  stepping 
close  before  her  looked  into  her  face,  while  the  other  two  seized 
Egino's  two  arms,  in  order  at  once  to  make  defense  impossible  to- 
him.  Egino  tore  himself  loose  from  them,  while  Lanfranco  added  :  — 

"  Do  you  think  I  don't  know  you,  Donna  Corradina?  Do  you  think 
old  Lanfranco  is  so  stupid ' 

Lanfranco  could  not  end,  for  he  already,  at  this  moment,  felt  upon 
his  neck  the  hand  of  Egino,  who  hurled  him  back  from  Corradina, 
and  with  the  other  hand  drew  forth  the  dagger  and  raised  it,  in  order 
therewith  to  keep  from  his  person  the  two  other  bandits,  who  now, 
uttering  half-audible  curses,  again  pressed  upon  him. 

Corradina  uttered  a  cry  of  alarm.  She  threw  herself  upon  Lan- 
franco, who,  the  instant  Egino  turned  against  the  others,  tried  to 
seize  his  lower  arm,  in  order  to  make  him  defenseless  and  to  wrest 
from  him  the  dagger.  Mutely  pressing  his  teeth  together  Egino 
struggled  against  this  with  a  tenacious  strength,  which  would  have 
been  fully  a  match  for  that  of  the  old  bandit ;  the  two  others,  how- 
ever, rushed  upon  him  so  violently,  that  they  forced  him  down  on 
his  knees.  Corradina  saw  that  they  must  have  overpowered  him 
before  many  seconds  would  pass. 

At  this  instant,  though,  two  entirely  unexpected  apparitions  ap- 
proached the  group  wrestling  in  the  darkness  and  wound  in  a  tangle. 
There  suddenly  sounded  in  close  proximity  to  them  the  strokes  of 
horses'  feet,  and  the  clinking  of  weapons,  and  an  outcry  ;  two  snort- 
ing horses  as  suddenly  threw  a  dark  shadow  upon  those  contending, 
and  a  suppressed  voice  cried  :  — 

"Accidentc  !  what  is  going  on  here  ?  Disperse,  there,  or  I  will  hew 
your  pates,  mob  !  " 

The  man  who  called  this  down  from  his  horse  brandished  at  the 
same  time  a  broad  and  long  sword  over  the  heads  of  the  bandits,  and 
came  down  with  a  flat  stroke  upon  Lanfranco's  back. 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  357 

Corradina  had  already  rushed  toward  them,  and  seizing  the  knee 
of  the  rider,  she  cried  :  — 

"  Sir,  save  us  from  these  bandits.     In  the  Redeemer's  name,  save 


us 


"  Body  of  the  Madonna  !  Go  to  the  hangman  !  "  cried  Lanfranco, 
on  the  contrary.  "  What  business  have  you  to  meddle  with  it  ?  We 
are  no  bandits  ;  we  are  subjects  of  the  Savelli,  and  these  are  our 
prisoners.  Help  us  to  make  them  fast !  " 

"  Who  are  they  ? "  asked  the  horseman,  as  if  in  surprise. 

"  Does  that  concern  you  ?  They  are  those  whom  we  seek, 
whom " 

"But  you  know  us!"  now  exclaimed  Egino,  aloud,  for  he  had 
looked  searchingly  into  the  countenance  of  the  horseman,  whose 
voice  had  a  sound  familiar  to  him. 

The  horseman  stooped  over  to  look  as  well  as  possible  into  the 
face  of  Egino,  and  then  into  that  of  Corradina,  and,  startled  thereby, 
he  said  :  — 

"You — is  it  you  ?  And  this,"  he  added,  quickly  rising  erect,  and 
after  that  whispering  a  few  words  to  the  other  horseman  near  him, 
— "this  pretends  to  be  a  servant  of  the  Savelli  ?  You  are  bandits, 
gallows-birds,  cutthroats,  scabby  dogs,  rabble,  that  belong  to  the 
galleys !  Cut  among  them,  Gregorio,  if  they  do  not  act  as  if  they 
will  get  away  !  " 

With  that  he  brought  out  his  long  sword  as  if  he  would  bring  it 
down  upon  Lanfranco's  skull.  The  bandits  bounded  back. 

Lanfranco  uttered  an  oath ;  the  other  horseman,  however,  crowded 
upon  him  likewise  with  his  horse  and  drawn  sword  :  if  he  would  not 
be  trodden  down  he  must  turn  and  flee,  and  the  other  bandits  fol- 
lowed him,  stumbling  down  the  steep  path. 

"But,  for  God's  sake,"  said  Egino,  taking  a  deep  breath,  "  how  did 
you  come  here  just  at  the  right  moment  to  be  our  rescuer,  Beppo  ? 
More  than  that,  how  have  you  become  a  horseman  ? " 

"Follow  me,  follow  me,"  hastily  replied  Beppo,  transformed  into  a 
horseman,  and  he  turned  his  horse  around.  "  I  will  save  you,  you 
and  the  lady  there  ;  for  Irmgard's  sake  I  will  save  you, —  but  make 
haste ! " 

Egino  and  Corradina  followed  him,  while  the  other  horseman 
remained  near  them. 

When,  after  a  few  steps,  they  came  around  the  corner  of  the 
ruined  walls,  they  saw  a  whole  group  of  horsemen,  perhaps  ten  or 


358  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

fifteen,  keeping  themselves  in  the  dark  shadow  of  the  ruin.  Beppo 
spoke  some  words  with  the  first  of  them,  then  he  beckoned  to  Egino 
with  his  hand ;  and  while  the  second  horseman  remained  with  the 
troop,  Beppo  rode  farther  over  the  dry,  grassy  surface.  Egino  and 
Corradina  had  trouble  to  keep  up  with  him. 

They  came  past  the  hedge  inclosing  Frau  Giulietta's  little 
garden. 

"  Beppo,"  here  exclaimed  Egino,  "  is  not  that  your  mother's 
house,  the  dwelling  of  Irmgard  ?  Whither  are  you  conducting  us  ? 
We  came  to  see  Irmgard.  We  are  on  our  flight ;  before  going, 
we  wish  to  see  Irmgard  ! " 

"Irmgard  is  dead!"  answered  Beppo,  in  a  subdued  undertone. 
"  There  in  the  room  you  see  the  light  shimmer  through  the  shutters  ; 
there  she  lies  !  " 

"  Dead  ?     O  my  God  !  " 

"  She  died  a  few  hours  ago." 

Corradina  seized  Egino's  arm,  as  if  to  support  him  or  as  if  in 
a  violent  emotion. 

Egino  had  stopped ;  a  sudden  pang  convulsed  him.  He  stood 
as  if  rooted  to  the  earth. 

"  Forward,  forward  !  "  cried  Beppo,  turning  back  and  looking  down 
from  his  horse,  walking  in  advance  of  them.  "  I  will  save  you,  both 
of  you,  for  her  sake  !  Otherwise  she  would  have  died  in  vain,  if  you 
were  not  saved.  But  you  must  hasten  !  " 

"Whither,  then,  do  you  lead  us  ?  "  asked  Corradina  now,  dragging 
Egino  after  her. 

Beppo  pointed  with  his  hand  to  a  strong  troop,  which  at  this 
moment  became  visible  to  them,  as  they  turned  around  a  corner 
of  the  high  wall  of  the  Colonna  gardens.  Before  the  gate  which 
still  to-day  leads  out  of  these  gardens  upon  the  Monte  Cavallo, 
the  ridge  of  the  Ouirinal  Hill,  tarried  perhaps  fifty  horsemen, 
part  high  on  horseback,  part  standing  near  the  horses.  When  they 
came  nearer  they  perceived  that  all  these  men  were  armed,  many  as 
regular  warriors,  with  breastplates  and  helmets,  pistols  and  swords, 
many  only  with  helmets  and  long  daggers.  Still,  almost  all  the  last 
wore  also  strong  doublets  of  buffalo-skin  and  cavalry-boots  drawn 
high  up  to  the  knee, —  the  same  costume  in  which  Beppo  also  sat 
upon  his  black  warhorse. 

"There  are  led-horses  and  horses  of  burden  there,"  continued 
Beppo.  "  To  provide  for  the  accident  that  some  of  our  horses  are  shot 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  359 

or  stabbed,  we  have  taken  along  horses  as  substitutes.  Come,  now ; 
I  will  get  one  for  each  of  you." 

He  rode  farther,  and  led  Egino  and  Corradina  into  the  midst  of  the 
crowd  of  horsemen.  Here  took  place  a  brief  interchange  of  words 
between  Beppo  and  a  tall,  strongly  built  man,  who  wore  a  black  cap 
upon  his  bearded  head,  while  his  helmet  hung  down  from  the  horn 
of  his  saddle.  The  man  appeared  to  make  objections. 

"What  help  to  us  is  a  man  who  has  no  sword,  but,  instead  of  that, 
takes  a  wife  with  him  ?  "  Egino  heard  him  say. 

Beppo  grew  angry. 

"  But  he  is  a  warrior,  and  a  sword  will  also  be  found  ;  and  if  you 
people  of  Ferrara  are  not  willing  to  help  us  who  are  clients  of  the 
Colonna,  you  have  only  to  say  so ;  we  will  then  go  home,  and  let  you 
see  how  you  come  through  !  " 

The  other  muttered  something  in  his  beard ;  Beppo,  however,  had 
.already  sprung  away  and  handed  over  his  animal  to  a  horseman.  He 
brought  from  the  circle  a  riderless  horse,  upon  which  he  lifted  Cor- 
radina, then  quickly  a  second  for  Egino.  Corradina  was  too  much 
accustomed  to  riding  not  to  feel  soon  comfortable  and  firm  in  the 
saddle ;  Egino  had  swung  himself  up  in  an  instant  without  stirrups. 
Beppo  now  hastened  back  to  his  horse,  and  was  just  loosing  his  pis- 
tol from  his  saddle,  where  it  hung,  in  order  to  reach  it  over  to  Egino, 
while  the  latter  was  grasping  with  his  right  hand  for  the  reins  of 
•Corradina's  horse,  in  order  to  draw  it  closer  to  his  side. 

At  this  instant,  however,  sounded  forth  a  short,  shrill  whistle 
from  the  garden  ;  immediately  afterward  appeared  at  its  gate  sev- 
eral armed  men,  who,  coming  out,  seemed  to  issue  orders,  and,  as  well 
as  the  darkness  enabled  one  to  make  out,  to  throw  themselves  upon 
richly  equipped  horses,  which  were  led  out  before  them.  From  a 
short  distance  beyond,  the  sound  of  hoofs  reached  them  ;  this  indi- 
cated that  the  troop  halting  behind  the  angle  of  the  wall,  to  which 
Beppo  had  first  led  Egino,  had  darted  away  as  advance  force.  The 
man  in  the  cap,  with  whom  Beppo  had  contended,  cried  out,  "  Ad- 
vance !  "  And  the  whole  crowd  put  themselves  in  motion,  — at  first 
in  a  walk,  then  in  a  very  fast  trot.  They  went  over  the  ridge  of  the 
Ouirinal,  over  the  same  road  which  Brother  Martin  traversed  when 
he,  coming  from  Frau  Giulietta's  house,  had  gone  to  the  Porta  del 
Popolo,  with  the  baying  dog  continuously  at  his  side. 

While  the  tall  and  heavy  horses  were  now  rushing  forward,  their 
violent  movements  prevented  all  conversation,  even  if  it  had  been 


360  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

possible,  in  spite  of  the  clatter  of  harness  and  weapons  and  the 
strokes  of  hoofs  upon  the  hard,  dry  ground,  to  make  one's  self  un- 
derstood. But  they  had  soon  reached  the  part  of  the  road  where  it 
descended  to  the  lower  city,  and  where,  with  shortened  reins,  they 
must  ride  in  a  walk.  Egino  now  saw  Beppo  at  his  side,  and  catch- 
ing his  breath  he  exclaimed  :  — 

"  But  I  beg  you,  Beppo,  now  explain  to  us  among  what  people  we 
are,  who  are  thus  bearing  us  away,  as  if  we  are  held  captive  by  a 
dream." 

"Among  what  people  you  are!"  remarked  Beppo,  breathing  as 
heavily  from  the  quick  ride.  "Are  you  not  aware  ?  The  lords  there 
behind  us  are  the  Duke  of  Ferrara  and  the  illustrious  Fabricio 
Colonna  ;  the  host  of  warriors  around  us  are  the  Duke  Alfonso's  colos- 
sal people,  in  whose  attendance  he  has  come  hither ;  we  others,  — 
we  are  the  clients  of  the  Colonna,  called  out  to  their  support.  We 
have  fallen  upon  the  bargello  with  his  deputies,  who  were  guarding 
the  palace  over  at  the  Holy  Apostles,  and  have  gagged  him  and 
dragged  him  to  the  court  of  the  palace.  Our  way  now  leads  to  the 
Porta  del  Popolo,  at  which  we  must  cut  ourselves  a  way  through,  and 
to  the  Ponte  Molle,  which  we  must,  likewise,  take  by  storm.  The 
object  is  to  bring  the  Duke  of  Ferrara  into  liberty  and  safety.  The 
Holy  Father  wishes  to  have  him  brought  early  in  the  morning  to 
the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo,  and  we  are  bringing  him  to-night  into 
liberty.  The  master  of  the  house  of  our  Lord  Fabricio  has  secretly 
called  out  to-day  those  of  his  clients  skilled  in  arms  and  all  of  us 
who  can  ride,  and  he  has  provided  for  us  horses  and  weapons.  It  has 
been  done  quite  in  secret,  so  there  are  of  our  men  altogether  not 
more  than  sixty ;  but  I  think  we  will  be  enough  to  make  our  way 
through.  Now  you  know  all  about  it." 

"And  that  you  previously  came  to  us  just  at  the  right  moment  to 
give  us  help  against  the  brigands " 

"  I  was  with  the  advance  troop,"  interposed  Beppo.  "  We  were 
keeping  quiet  behind  the  old  wall,  when  we  perceived  the  cries  and 
your  struggling  with  the  brigands  close  in  our  vicinity,  and  so  I 
came  just  at  the  right  moment  to  rescue  you." 

"  And  how  shall  we  thank  you,"  here  remarked  Corradina,  "  that 
you  have  taken  us  with  you,  and  now  lead  us  away  in  such  stately, 
certain  protection  ?" 

"You  need  not  thank  me,  noble  lady,"  responded  Beppo.  "I 
save  you,  because  the  poor  Irmgard  would  have  seen  you  saved,  who- 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  36 r 

is  now  up  yonder  with  the  angels.  Poor  Irmgard  !  From  this  darkr 
star-sprinkled  heaven  she  will  look  down  upon  us  !  She  will  see  you 
and  also  me.  She  will  be  as  a  saint  who  sees  everything  and  hears, 
every  prayer  that  a  poor  mortal  may  direct  to  her  —  will  she  not  ?  " 

"Certainly,"  said  Egino  ;  "and  she  will  also  see  how  full  of  grati- 
tude our  heart  is  for  you,  Beppo  !  " 

"  Oh,  thank  you  !  "  exclaimed  Beppo,  almost  involuntarily.  "Should 
I  have  let  you  be  captured  here  by  these  people  of  the  Savelli  ?  They 
would  have  tortured  you,  and  put  you  to  the  rack  till  you  would  con- 
fess everything  to  the  very  last :  how  your  escape  out  of  the  cloister 
of  Santa  Sabina  was  set  on  foot  ;  who  had  aided  you  in  your  flight ; 
how  Irmgard  had  found  you,  and  how  Beppo  had  guided  the  poor 
maiden  ;  and  how  he,  again,  then  conducted  you  out  of  the  vaults  ; 
and  then  it  would  have  gone  hard  with  Beppo  !  So,  if  I  did  not  do  it 
for  the  sake  of  the  dead  Irmgard,  and  if  I  had  not  been  anxious  for 
her  friends  to  escape  unhurt,  I  must  yet  have  done  it  for  my  own 
sake  !  But  what  happens  to-night  must  Lord  Fabricio  Colonna  settle 
later  with  the  Holy  Father  ;  we  do  only  what  is  commanded  by  our 
patron,  and  nothing  beyond  that  concerns  us  who  are  dependent 
upon  his  protection,  and  must  follow  when  he  wishes  our  attendance. 
Therefore  do  not  talk  to  me  of  thanks,  but  rather  seat  yourself 
firmly  in  the  stirrups  ;  you  hear  how  they  have  just  fallen  upon  each 
other  at  the  gate." 

In  fact,  from  there  resounded  cries  and  noise  of  weapons ;  the  ad- 
vance troop  must,  at  this  moment,  have  encountered  the  watch  at 
gate. 

"  Forward  !  "  again  cried  aloud  the  leader  of  the  cavalry  host. 

The  horses  were  spurred  up ;  the  whole  crowd,  closely  balled  to- 
gether, sprang  to  the  gate  ;  one  could  hear  thence  cries  and  shrieks 
amid  the  rattling  of  weapons  clashing  together.  Above  the  dark 
bodies  of  prancing  horses  could  be  perceived  the  blades  of  swords 
drawn  out  for  a  stroke,  brandished  partisans  and  halberds.  Now,  also, 
firearms  flashed ;  the  crash  of  the  heavy  discharge  echoed  from  the 
front  of  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  and  the  nearest  walls.  Still,  the 
guard,  surprised  and  thrown  into  consternation  by  the  suddenness  of 
the  attack,  seemed  ready  to  yield,  when  the  chief  troop  came  to  the 
spot  and  swung  their  weapons  in  order,  pressing  forward  to  enter 
into  the  contest. 

Those  in  advance  already  were  shouting  aloud  the  battle-cry  :  "  A 
noble  Este  !  A  noble  Colonna  ! " 


362  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

The  gate  was  taken  ;  the  guards  were  scattered  in  flight  except  a 
half-dozen  men,  who  were  surrounded,  and  compelled  by  swords  held 
before  them  and  by  flat  strokes  to  draw  up  again  the  falling-gate, 
which  had  been  let  down  by  them  at  the  first  alarm. 

When  this  had  been  done  the  whole  crowd,  like  a  storm-wind, 
rushed  farther  down  the  Flaminian  Way,  past  the  Villa  of  Callisto 
lying  there  in  the  dark.  The  space  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later  and 
the  Tiber  bridge,  more  feebly  guarded  than  the  gate,  was  won  with 
less  effort :  with  the  far  bank  liberty  was  attained  —  liberty  for  the 
Duke  of  Ferrara,  as  well  as  for  Esfino  and  the  woman  of  his  love. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

THE    MORTARA  CHILD    OF   THE   WORLD.* 

E  have  left  Brother  Martin  and  the  lawyer  upon  the 
height  of  the  Quirinal,  at  the  spot  which  one  to-day  calls 
Monte  Cavallo,  from  the  prancing,  colossal  horses,  as- 
cribed to  the  chisels  of  Phidias  and  Praxiteles,  and 
formerly  erected  here  as  an  ornament  to  the  adjacent  Baths  of 
Sixtus  V. 

The  two  men  had  seen  how  also  the  second,  larger  troop  of  horse- 
men set  themselves  in  motion,  and  had  again  fled  to  one  side  to  get 
out  of  their  way.  Since  they  moved  at  first  less  rapidly  than  the 
advance  troop,  and  passed  the  two  men  in  a  walk,  this  gave  the 
latter  time  to  perceive  the  two  forms  riding  in  the  midst  of  the  pro- 
cession, who,  from  their  dress  and  appearance,  presented  a  strange 
aspect  among  the  martial  folk. 

Although  it  was  already  far  too  dark  for  certain  recognition,  still, 
Callisto  exclaimed  in  surprise  :  — 

"  Do  you  see  those  two,  the  man  and  the  maiden  in  the  peasant 
garb,  Brother  Martin  ?  If  they  were  our  friends  !  " 

"  You  must  know  better  than  I,"  said  Brother  Martin,  cut- 
ting short  his  speech,  "  how  you  have  disguised  Egino  and  his 
countess  to  make  them  unrecognizable,  and  whether  or  not  it  could 
be  they." 

"  It  was  certainly  they  ;  I  could  swear  to  it  !  "  added  Callisto. 

"  But  what,  then,  can  all  this  mean  ?  Who  are  these  horsemen  ; 
how  come  our  friends  among  them  ?  Are  they  discovered  ?  Are 
they  carried  away  as  prisoners  ?  For  what  purpose,  then,  this  crowd 
of  giant-like  people  ?  Have  you  any  idea,  Signer  Callisto  ?  " 

"  Not  the  least ;  we  can  do  nothing  to  solve  this  riddle  except  to 

*  "Reference  is  here  made  to  a  child  of  the  Mortara  family,  which  was  stolen  and  brought  up  as 
a  devotee  to  the  Catholic  faith,  though  his  parents  had  chosen  for  their  child  a  career  entij-ely 
different." — Professor  Helved,  of  State  College,  Lexington,  Ky. 

363 


364  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

go  to  the  house  of  Frau  Giulietta,  lying  here  before  us  ;  perhaps  we 
may  receive  information  there." 

"  God  grant  it  ! "  said  Brother  Martin,  excited,  and  walking  with 
redoubled  haste  to  the  house  indicated  by  Callisto.  They  came 
into  the  garden  of  Frau  Giulietta,  and  saw,  standing  immovable,  a 
woman  of  her  size  and  form  close  to  the  hedge-opening  which  served 
.as  an  entrance.  It  seemed  as  if  she  were  listening  to  the  hoof- 
strokes  of  the  horses  dying  away  in  the  distance. 

"  Is  it  you,  Donna  Giulietta  —  yes,  it  is  you  ;  and  you  recognize 
us  ?  "  whispered  Callisto. 

"  Certainly,  certainly,  Signer  Callisto,"  answered  Frau  Giulietta, 
quickly.  "  Had  I  not  already,  long  since,  recognized  your  voice,  do 
you  think  I  would  have  so  quietly  waited  here  your  approach — in 
this  dreadful  night,  when  I  have  the  dead  there  behind  me  in  the 
house,  and  am  now  still  more  desolate  and  lonely  with  her  in  the 
.still  house  where  only  the  old,  bewitched  man  sits  by  her  bed  and 
does  not  stir  or  move,  and  will  not  take  a  bit  of  food  in  his  mouth, 
-and  only  mutters  words  which  no  Christian  man  can  understand,  and 
which  are,  in  the  end,  only  witchcraft,  with  which  the  old  wizard 
makes  my  whole  house  and  possessions  and  all  of  us  unhappy  ?  Oh ! 
walk  in,  Signer  Callisto,  and  see 

"  Stop,  only  stop,  Frau  Giulietta,"  said  Callisto,  interrupting  her 
words.  "  Only  tell  us  quickly,  were  Count  Egino  and  the  Countess 
Corradina  here  ?  And  what  signifies  the  crowd  of  horsemen  passing 
us  just  now?  and  who  were  the  people  of  the  peasantry  who  were 
being  borne  away  so  swiftly  in  their  midst  ? " 

"  Who  the  horsemen  were  I  can  tell  you,  Signer  Callisto," 
responded  Frau  Giulietta,  eagerly;  "for  now,  since  they  have  carried 
it  out  and  are  up  and  away,  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  silent  any 
longer, —  so  full  of  secrecy  as  Beppo,  the  poor  youth,  has  been  over  it 
all  day  ;  for  he  is  with  them,  you  must  know,  Signer  Callisto, —  Beppo ; 
and  he  is  s'o  clever  and  quick,  and  also  firm  in  the  saddle  as  an  old 
rider,  and,  in  truth,  useful  in  every  way.  They  have  given  him  a  part 
to  command, — 'him  and  Grcgorio  Benvieni,  our  cousin.  May  God 
now  have  them  all  in  his  protection,  and  guard  them  from  misfor- 
tune ;  for  if  anything  should  happen  to  Beppo,  you  see,  Signor  Cal- 
listo, it  would  just  be  my  death.  I  don't  know  what  I 

"  But,  Donna  Giulietta,"  said  Callisto,  breaking  in  upon  her 
speech,  "  you  were  going  to  tell  us  what  all  this  means.  I  pray  you 
come  to  the  point  ;  who  were  these  horsemen  ?  " 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  365 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you,  Signer  Callisto,  that  they  are  the  subjects  of 
the  Colonna  and  the  horsemen  of  Este.  Our  lord  and  patron, 
Fabricio  Colonna,  has  received  promises  from  the  Holy  Father  that 
Alfonso  should  have  kindness  and  peace  from  him  ;  and  now  that  he 
has  come,  the  illustrious  Alfonso,  the  Holy  Father  wishes  to  force 
him  to  leave  his  land  and  to  withdraw  to  Asti,  from  this  on  to  dwell 
as  a  beggar;  and  Fabricio  Colonna  will  not  suffer  that  one  should 
thus  deceive  his  friend  and  guest,  and  therefore  they  are  conducting 
him  with  an  armed  force  out  of  the  city." 

"God  be  with  us  !  "  broke  in  Brother  Martin,  with  a  deep  breath 
of  relief. 

"  But  the  two, —  the  young  man  and  the  maiden,  who  were  being 
carried  away  ? " 

"  I  know  nothing  of  a  young  man  and  a  maiden,"  answered  Frau 
Giulietta. 

"  Perhaps  honest  Beppo  has  recognized  them,  and  now  rescues 
them,"  said  Callisto. 

"  Certainly  it  is  so  !  At  least,  we  can  do  nothing  else  but  hope 
that  it  is  so  !"  exclaimed  Brother  Martin. 

"And  perhaps  this  turn  of  affairs  will  be  for  my  good,"  added 
Callisto.  "  If  the  Colonna  break  through  the  gate-guards  and  dis- 
perse them,  the  way  will  also  be  opened  to  me  to  get  home  and 
quiet  Donna  Ottavia's  fears.  Come,  Brother  Martin,  there  is  noth- 
ing left  us  but  to  bid  Frau  Giulietta  good-night  and  walk  home." 

Frau  Giulietta  would  gladly  have  broken  out  again  into  complaints 
about  how  lonely  she  was  now  without  Beppo,  and  about  how  she 
was  afraid  to  go  back  into  her  house,  with  the  still  corpse  and  the 
wizard  muttering  his  incantations  ;  but  the  two  men  withdrew  from 
her,  and  instantly  disappeared  in  the  darkness.  After  walking  a 
quarter  of  an  hour,  they  were  at  the  cloister  of  Santa  Maria  and  the 
Porta  del  Popolo. 

Callisto  had  cherished  a  deceptive  hope  when  he  thought  they 
would  now  let  him  out ;  the  surprised  guard  had  now  recovered  from 
their  fright  and  their  overthrow,  and  were  again  assembled,  and 
shoved  him  back  angrily  and  with  curses.  Perhaps  it  was  the  mili- 
tary order  to  which  they  held,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  reason  for 
it  had  now  ceased  to  exist,  and  the  closing  of  the  gate  had  become 
aimless.  Perhaps,  also,  they  were  too  lazy  to  draw  up  the  heavy 
falling-gate,  now  again  let  down.  Signor  Callisto  must  reconcile 
himself  to  seeking  a  shelter  for  the  night  with  one  of  his  acquaint- 


366  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

ances  dwelling  near  by.  Brother  Martin  went  to  seek  out  his 
cloister  and  his  cell,  and  there,  tired  to  death,  let  himself  drop  down 
upon  his  couch. 

It  was  late  the  next  morning  when  he  awoke  out  of  an  invigora- 
ting slumber ;  he  had  slept  through  the  matin  service  of  the  monks, 
as  well  as  the  morning  masses  and  the  breakfast-time.  He  was 
obliged  to  beg  of  the  lay  brother  appointed  to  his  service  a  little 
milk  and  bread ;  and  when  this  had  been  brought  to  him  he  began 
to  tie  up  his  bundles.  It  was  little  that  he  had  brought  hither  ; 
what  he  was  taking  away  was  not  much  more, —  a  little  linen,  so 
much  as  a  traveling  monk  needed,  and  some  legal  documents  from 
the  process  which  he  had  been  sent  here  to  carry  on,  and  several 
books  which  he  had  found  opportunity  to  buy  in  Rome,  and  partly 
also  in  Verona  and  Bologna,  on  his  way  hither.  Fastened  together, 
all  these  now  made  a  burden  too  heavy  for  a  pedestrian  to  carry. 
Some  other  means  of  bearing  them  away  must  be  devised.  Treas- 
ures of  this  kind,  such  as,  for  the  most  part,  were  scarcely  to  be  had 
at  home  in  Germany,  could  not  be  left  behind. 

Then  he  devoted  the  day  to  taking  leave  of  Rome.  It  was  a 
mute  leave-taking  :  first,  from  some  sacred  places  where  he  had 
prayed  and  meditated  when  he  first  made  a  pilgrimage  through  the 
"  Eternal  City  "  ;  from  the  finest  of  the  basilicas,  in  whose  great  and 
magnificent  naves  wherein  Christians  of  remote  centuries  had  knelt, 
the  spirit  of  the  pure,  primitive  times  of  the  faith  had  blown  upon 
him, —  the  spirit  of  the  Apostles,  and  of  those  who  had  died  as  martyrs 
to  the  evangelical  truth.  He  went  to  take  leave  of  the  graves  of 
the  Apostles  ;  and  coming  home  from  there,  he  stepped  once,  more 
into  the  Pantheon  of  Agrippa,  into  the  silent  domain  of  beautiful 
paganism  which  here  still  extended  its  arches  over  him,  so  great,  so 
bright,  so  illumined  by  thought  ;  he  mounted  once  more  to  the  Cap- 
itol, from  which  Rome  had  plundered  the  world  ;  he  let  his  glance 
sweep  over  the  ruins  of  the  Palaces  of  the  Caesars  and  the  high  walls 
of  the  Flavian  Amphitheater,  and  fixed  it  then,  for  the  last  time,  upon 
the  world  of  ruins  at  his  feet, —  upon  the  spot  where  once  upon  the 
Forum  fell  the  dice  for  the  destinies  of  the  earth. 

At  last  he  stepped  into  a  restaurant  lying  upon  his  way,  and  al- 
lowed himself  helped  to  wine  and  something  to  eat.  They  brought 
to  him  food,  and  a  bottle  woven  around  with  a  bright  straw,  and  a 
little  tin  cup,  out  upon  a  table  nailed  together  out  of  rough  planks, 
which  stood  before  the  house  under  a  great  mulberry  tree.  In  the 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  367 

shade  of  the  tree  he  seated  himself  upon  a  piece  of  red  marble, — a 
block  of  that  antico  rosso  which  Africa  had  paid  as  tribute  to  Rome, 
the  mistress  of  the  world,  which  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand 
years  before  had  perhaps  formed  the  altar  of  a  god  or  the  socle  of  a 
hero's  statue,  and  which  now  served  for  the  seat  of  the  German 
monk  Martin  with  his  thought-laden  brain. 

The  restaurant  lay  high  ;  one  overlooked  from  the  place  under  the 
mulberry  tree  a  good  bit  of  the  "Eternal  City"  and  the  Campagna, 
and  behind  them  the  pure,  beautifully  sweeping  lines  of  the  two 
mountains  with  the  little  cities,  castles,  and  settlements  of  the  prim- 
itive Latin  times  on  their  cliffs.  In  his  farewell  wanderings  and 
ramblings  through  the  city,  the  whole  day  had  almost  disappeared 
before  Brother  Martin  was  aware. 

Now,  the  sun  already  sunk,  the  air  was  so  clear  and  transparent 
that  all  distances  became  near,  and  every  point  of  the  landscape 
seemed  attainable  in  the  shortest  space.  Was  it  not  as  if  one  could 
count  the  windows  in  the  houses  of  Frascati  ?  But  still,  the  distance 
bore  a  wonderfully  fine  shimmer  of  violet,  and  the  sky  above  the 
heights  and  above  the  Campagna  began  to  glow  in  rosy  tints  ;  the 
light  of  dying  day  heralded  its  approach  with  all  the  magic  of  a 
southern  sunset. 

It  came  with  all  the  deeply  moving  beauty  with  which  the  golden 
flames  and  the  purple  tints  of  evening  gleamed  above  the  heights  of 
this  wonder-land,  diffused  themselves,  and  blended  into  ravishing 
hues  ;  with  that  beauty  which  Dante  felt  when  he  sang  so  proudly 
his"  father-land,  "//  bel  pcesa,  chc  il  mar  circonda  ;"  which  filled  the 
heart  of  Filicaja  with  such  deep  melancholy  when  he  expressed  pity 
for  this  "Dono  in/dice  di  bcllcza"  and  which  influenced  in  Lord  Byron 
that  sadness,  placing  upon  his  lips  that  winged  word  of  the  "  Niobe 
of  the  Nations." 

The  German  cloister  brother,  however,  when  he  looked  upon  the 
Eternal  City,  woven  about  with  the  eternal  beauty  of  enchanting 
nature,  thought  of  Horace's  celebrated  stanza :  — 

"  Alme    Sol,   curru  nitido  diem  qui 
Promis  et  celas,  aliusque  et  idem 
Nasceris;   possis  nihil  urbe  Roma 
Visere  majus !  " 

"In  truth,"  he  said  to  himself,  "the  world  has  nothing  greater! 
She  is  the  creature,  the  child,  the  heiress  of  the  world,  this  Rome ! 
The  generations  of  men,  as  they  have  succeeded  each  other,  have 


368  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

built  her  ;  the  nations  have  created  their  best  for  her.  Egyptians, 
Greeks,  Etruscans,  Latins — they  all  have  left  their  treasures  for  her 
culture,  and  the  great  spirits  of  mankind,  the  creative  geniuses,  their 
best  works.  From  the  upper  Nile,  out  of  the  city  of  a  hundred 
palaces,  came  this  marble  ;  out  of  Greece  came  the  artists  who,  out 
of  such  blocks,  created  the  magnificence  of  statuary.  Thus  the 
world  adorns  her  creature  ;  she  belongs  to  the  world,  —  she  is  the  eter- 
nal possession  of  the  nations.  But  the  priests  came  and  took  this 
child  of  the  world  to  bring  it  up  in  their  faith,  to  fill  it  with  their 
superstition,  to  put  upon  it  a  monk's  gown." 

If  this  German  critic  had  lived  in  our  days,  he  would  have  broken 
out  in  the  cry  :  — 

"  In  truth,  this  child  of  the  world,  this  rich  heiress  of  the  nations, 
whom  they  have  won  for  the  cloister,  is  the  Mortara  child  of  the 
world's  history." 

As  it  was,  however,  only  a  great  aching,  a  great  pain  of  farewell, 
passed  through  his  heart,  while  he  said  to  himself  that  he  must  go, 
never  to  return.  The  hands  which  had  taken  possession  of  the 
heiress  of  history,  had  risen  in  hostility  against  men  of  his  spirit. 
They  drove  him  out,  —  away  out  of  this  beautiful  world  ;  away  from 
the  Ausonian  soil ;  from  the  soft  and  gentle  breezes  of  evergreen 
gardens  ;  from  the  neighborhood  of  the  sublime  monuments  of  an- 
tiquity ;  from  the  circle  of  a  life  refined  by  manners,  ennobled  by  art 
and  poesy;  from  this  atmosphere  of  a  care-free  enjoyment  of  exist- 
ence, where  it  would  cost  nothing  but  a  little  mute  subjection, 
nothing  but  a  little  treachery  to  an  inner  fidelity  to  self,  to  the  feel- 
ing of  truth,  and  to  living  testimony,  in  order  to  become  led  easily 
and  smoothly  past  sin  and  vice,  and  through  death  into  the  luminous 
gate  of  heaven, — into  the  eternal  continuation  of  the  care-free  life 
here  below.  From  all  this  Brother  Martin  felt  himself  shut  out, 
banished,  driven  away. 

The  bridge  was  broken  down  between  them  and  him,  and  a  deep 
abyss  yawned  between  the  men  of  works  and  the  men  of  faith,  as  he 
called  his  love.  Rome  thrust  him  from  her  forever.  He  turned 
upon  her  his  back  as  did  Tannhauser,  who  had  come  thirsting  for 
reconciliation,  and  whose  German  impulse  of  soul  had  also  not  un- 
derstood Rome.  He  went  home  over  the  Alps  into  the  German 
father-land,  the  cradle  of  the  human  thought  of  the  future.  Upon 
his  breast  rested  the  gospel  of  this  future. 

There  were  the  leaves  of  the  great  Hohenstaufen  emperor.     Once 


LUTHER    IN   ROME,  369 

had  the  kingdom  been  overthrown  because  these  Hohenstaufens 
had  united  their  political  destinies  with  the  destiny  of  Italy.  Now, 
the  greatest  of  these  would  avenge  the  overthrow  ;  he  punished  the 
rebellion  and  the  tearing  loose  of  rebellious  powers  from  the  king- 
dom, while  he  with  sharp  sword-stroke  divided,  also,  the  religious 
destinies  of  the  two  peoples,  and  tore  loose  the  faith  of  the  native 
land  from  the  faith  of  that  beyond  the  Alps. 

Such  a  sword-stroke  this  doctrine  contained  by  his  book  would, 
indeed,  become,  so  soon  as  this  book  was  placed  in  the  hand  of  the 
proper  champion  chosen  by  God. 

When  Brother  Martin  came  home  to  his  cloister,  the  gate-keeper 
gave  to  him  a  sealed  note.  The  porter  said  a  man  from  the  villa  of 
Signor  Callisto  Minucci  had  brought  it.  When  Martin  had  broken 
the  seal  he  read  the  words  :  — 

"  Callisto's  gardener,  who  brings  home  with  him  this  note,  will  tell 
you  that  we  are  safe.  We  await  you,  Brother  Martin,  beyond  the 
boundary,  in  Sienna." 


CHAPTER  XXL 

THOUGHTS  OF  THE  EMPEROR. 

"  7Vit'  real  Pope,  thai  is  the  righteous  will ; 
And  not  in  Rome  this  divells,  but  in  ourselves!'* 

—  Z.  WERNER,  "The  Consecration  of  Power." 

JT  was  five  days  later.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  distant  from 
the  city  of  Sienna,  on  the  road  leading  to  Rome,  at  a  well 
placed  there  for  the  refreshing  of  travelers,  two  men  had 
laid  themselves  down,  rejoicing,  as  it  seemed,  in  the  rest 
under  the  thick  shade  of  the  plane  trees  surrounding  this  repose- 
inviting  place. 

One  of  them,  a  little,  oldish,  deformed  man,  lay  stretched  out 
upon  the  hard  ground  covered  with  short  grass.  He  had  his 
two  elbows  propped  up,  let  his  capacious  jaws  rest  upon  his  fists, 
and  stared,  apparently  without  thought,  at  the  fresh,  bubbling  water 
which  was  rushing  down  out  of  the  stone-hewn  lion's  mouth  into 
a  sarcophagus,  thus  converted  into  a  trough. 

The  other  was  a  white-clad  monk,  who  sat  reading  upon  a  seat 
at  the  side  of  the  well.  He  had,  in  truth,  on  account  of  the 
heat,  thrown  off  the  black  cape,  which  hung  half  out  of  the 
hamper  of  a  donkey  standing  still,  with  sunken  head,  near  the 
man  stretched  out  on  the  grass.  This  animal  betrayed  life  only  by 
the  oscillations  of  his  tail,  with  which  he  drove  from  himself  the 
dense  swarm  of  flies  buzzing  about  him. 

In  the  hampers  of  the  donkey  one  perceived  all  kinds  of  effects, 
above  all,  a  package  of  heavy  books.  The  monk  was  absorbed  in 
the  little  book  held  in  his  hand. 

The  book  of  the  Emperor  Frederick  II.  had  been  written  by  him 
about  the  time  of  the  Council  of  Lyons,  in  the  days  when  Innocent 
IV.,  with  only  one  hundred  and  forty  French  and  Spanish  bishops, 
had  excommunicated  the  emperor,  declared  his  crown  forfeited,  form- 

370 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  371 

ally  displaced  him  from  his  kingdom,  and,  in  the  fullness  of  spiritual 
power,  had  taken  from  the  German  nation  her  anointed  and  crowned 
head.  This  had  been  the  great  death-stroke  for  the  old  Germanic 
empire.  Frederick  had  called  upon  the  kings  and  princes  to  conquer 
this  hierarchy,  which,  with  open  violence,  snatched  for  itself  the 
mastery  of  the  world.  But  the  kings  and  princes  had  deserted  him, 
and  submitted.  The  people  bowed  themselves  to  the  yoke  of  the 
priesthood,  and  the  deserted  emperor,  who,  with  broad  view,  saw  in 
the  future  the  wretchedness  and  inner  ruin  which  must  enter  into 
Germany,  if  the  "  German  individuality,"  the  tendency  to  divide  and 
separate  and  struggle  apart  in  a  thousand  directions,  thus  received 
the  consecration  and  blessing  of  the  church,  which  tore  away  the 
imiting  band  of  the  nation  —  the  abandoned  emperor  could  do 
nothing  but  hold  his  banner  laboriously  aloft  with  his  remaining 
strength,  till  it  should  fall  from  his  dying  hand  ;  and  then,  dying, 
to  bequeath  the  expression  of  his  own  inner  spiritual  freedom  to  him 
whom  the  future  would  send  to  avenge  him. 

He  thought  of  this  :  — 

"  Exoriare  aliquis  nostris  ex  ossibus  ultor." 

But  what  he  wrote  down  for  this  avenger  were  far  less  the  oracles 
of  a  philosopher,  who,  in  seclusion  from  the  world,  sought  treasures 
in  the  still  mine  of  his  thoughts,  than  the  practical  hints,  counsels, 
and  warnings  of  a  man  who  had  grown  up  in  worldly  pursuits,  had 
been  educated  to  human  shrewdness,  and  had  learned  to  reckon  with 
the  real. 

"Men  as  they  are,"  he  had  written,  "need  still  a  supernatural, 
divine  warrant  for  the  law  according  to  which  they  are  to  act.  The 
authority  of  the  reason  and  of  thought  will  always  lead  only  the  wise 
and  good  ;  the  power  of  beauty  will  extend  over  only  beautiful 
hearts.  The  great  mass,  in  order  that  the  law  may  have  authority 
over  them,  need  the  seal  of  wonder  and  the  signature  of  a  hand 
coming  out  of  the  clouds. 

"  Let  us  not  contend  with  the  masses  about  this.  Do  not  waste 
your  strength  in  struggles  over  their  dogmas.  If  they  need  to  con- 
sider the  Holy  Spirit  a  white  dove,  then  do  not  think  it  will  be  much 
advantage  if  you  pluck  out  of  this  white  dove  a  part  of  its  feathers. 
Do  not  think  when  you  have  broken  to  pieces  the  dogmas  in  the 
hand  of  the  priests,  that  the  priests  have  been  won  to  the  service  of 
the  truth.  You  are  not  to  take  away  the  dogmas  from  the  priests ; 


372  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

no,  but  the  priests  from  the  dogmas.     By  this  course  alone  will  you 
see  minds  gradually  make  themselves  free. 

"  And  you  will  be  able  to  do  it,  if  you  place  mankind  and  their. 
God  in  the  proper  relation  to  each  other,  which  relation  was  hidden 
from  the  ancients,  and  which  Christ  has  revealed ;  for  the  ancients 
did  not  find  it  out :  with  one  people  of  them,  mankind  was  made  too 
subordinate,  and  became  as  nothing,  and  was  overwhelmed  under  the 
weight  of  its  representation  of  God,  as  with  the  Indians  and  the 
Jews ;  mankind  became  the  slave  of  their  God  ;  with  another  race, 
God  became  the  servant  of  man  ;  the  human  crushed  out  the  divine 
nature,  and  finally  made  sport  of  it,  as  with  the  Greeks  and  Romans. 
God,  however,  is  not  the  servant  of  man,  nor  is  man  the  slave  of 
God  ;  we  are  sons  of  the  Great  Father,  and  between  father  and  son 
no  priest  need  thrust  himself.  The  priest  knows  that  '  divide  et  im- 
pcra?  and  acts  accordingly.  Since,  however,  the  Deity  does  not 
allow  himself  stirred  up  against  man  by  the  priest,  the  priest  instills 
into  man  a  dread  of  the  Deity. 

'•'  Others  before  you  have  wished  to  give  to  the  world  a  better,  a 
more  worthy  priesthood.  You  give  to  each  one  the  pure,  higher 
man  in  himself  as  his  priest ;  for  in  each  one  there  are  two  men, — 
the  one  which  errs,  makes  mistakes,  grows  diseased,  and  sins,  and  the 
other  which  repents,  makes  atonement,  and  loves.  Give  to  each  one 
this  higher  man  for  a  priest,  for  an  intercessor  between  him  and  the 
Eternal.  This  inner  priesthood  will  bring  to  the  world  the  doctrine 
of  the  liberty  of  faith  and  of  thought,  and  it  will  also  bring  the 
doctrine  of  the  freedom  of  natures  and  characters. 

"  For  the  natures  of  men  are  different  ;  the  weak  and  mild  seek  a 
road  upon  which  to  walk  gently  forward,  different  from  that  over 
which  the  strong  and  impetuous  rush  ahead.  Only  one  way  leads 
to  Rome,  but  a  thousand  lead  to  Jerusalem.  Whoever  hears  God 
in  the  beating  of  his  heart  needs  not  the  thunder  of  a  Sinai,  which 
no  more  fills  him  with  alarm. 

"  Also  the  races  differ  in  nature.  You  cannot  span  together  the 
bear,  the  lion,  and  the  horse  in  the  same  yoke,  nor  nourish  them  all 
with  the  same  food.  You  will  never  teach  the  German  to  think  of 
his  God  as  the  Chaldean  or  the  Scandinavian,  nor  that  he  pray  to 
him  as  the  Indian.  As  each  one  has  in  his  higher  self  his  priest,  so 
each  race  has  its  high-priest,  according  to  the  genius  of  the  nation. 

"Teach  the  princes  to  hear  the  voice  of  their  reason,  of  their  soul, 
and  of  their  poor  subjects,  and  force  into  their  ear  the  cry  of  com- 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  373 

plaint  from  the  disturbed,  severed  kingdom.  Cause  them  to  blush 
for  shame  that  the  crown  of  the  great  Emperor  Karl  and  of  the 
.Ottos  has  become  a  plaything  in  the  hand  of  the  priest,  with  which 
he  rewards  an  obedient  child.  Show  to  them  yourself  a  reward. 
There  is  sufficient  for  this  in  the  booty  of  the  conflict ;  for  will 
there  not  fall  to  them  what  you  take  back  of  the  unrighteous 
mammon,  in  which  the  church  is  suffocated  ?  Truly,  the  word  of 
Christ,  '  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,'  points  the  princes  to  a  rich 
inheritance,  and  calls  them  to  share  the  treasures  of  more  than  the 
Indies. 

"  In  one  thing,  however,  above  all,  be  shrewd.  Work  by 
means  of  the  word,  less  by  means  of  the  deed.  Be  courageous  with 
the  word,  but  timid  about  the  deed,  for  the  deed  draws  you  to  things 
incalculable.  Not  for  your  word,  but  for  your  deed,  will  the 
enemies  punish  you.  Call  the  believers  away  from  the  temples,  — 
call  them  to  you  ;  the  temple,  however,  and  the  image  therein,  leave 
standing,  or  its  watchmen  will  slay  you. 

"Whoever  goes  into  the  field  against  the  whole  world  at  once, 
is  beaten  before  the  slaughter  has  begun.  No  prophet  has  the 
power,  by  one  and  the  same  sermon,  to  take  away  from  the 
priests  their  benefices  and  tithes ;  from  the  princes  their  bondmen 
and  their  revenues  ;  from  the  citizens  their  superstitions ;  and 
from  men  all  their  vices.  Therefore  do  not  call  your  congregation 
to  you  by  an  alarm  of  bells,  and  do  not  stride  along  as  a 
preacher  of  penitence  who  threatens,  and  punishes,  and  curses.  The 
world  has  had  more  than  enough  of  them.  It  is  folly  to  think, 
because  the  Pope  revels  at  a  luxurious  table,  a  man  can  be  of 
use  to  humanity  if  he  eats  locusts  in  a  hairy  garment.  The  truth  is 
the  same,  whether  it  is  made  known  in  a  velvet  mantle  or  in 
the  skin  of  a  beast. 

"If  you  wish  to  bring  liberty,  remember  her  foster-mother  is 
culture.  An  unbelieving,  but  cultivated  man,  stands  nearer  God 
than  the  savage  who  is  full  of  faith  ;  for  the  former  can  have 
love,  the  latter  cannot. 

"  Before  all,  do  not  force  yourself  to  martyrdom.  Those  who  fall 
in  battle  only  swell  the  triumph  of  the  victor,  and  every  one  over- 
come increases  his  pride.  To  preserve  one's  self  for  a  good  busi- 
ness is  wiser  than  to  be  killed  for  it,  and  a  living  witness  to  the 
truth  is  of  more  value  than  the  ashes  of  a  thousand  dead  ones.  Do 
not  forget  that  you  stand  in  the  midst  of  life,  and  of  earthly  human 


374  LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

things  as  they  are.  Bring  the  spirit  down  into  this  life,  but  do  not 
wish  in  vain  to  bring  this  life  up  to  the  spirit.  The  soil  of  man  is 
this  earth  ;  do  not  wish  to  place  him  upon  the  pillar  of  Simeon 
Stylites.  Whoever  will  lift  men  up  above  their  nature  is  only  a 
fanatic.  The  lifting  up  by  the  fanatic,  however,  will  always  be  like 
the  great  crusade  of  the  children  to  the  grave  of  the  saints.  They 
are  scattered  as  chaff  in  the  wind. 

"  Fire  testifies  the  presence  of  wind.  With  the  flame  of  fanati- 
cism you  may  make  evident  a  storm  ;  but  the  storms  pass  away 
over  the  heads  of  men,  the  flame  dies  out,  and  what  follows  is  still- 
ness and  the  old  night. 

"  It  is  easier  to  reach  a  great  aim,  than,  when  it  has  been  reached, 
to  stand  by  it.  To  the  former  only  courage  is  needed  ;  to  the  latter, 
self-control.  When  you  have  done  a  great  thing,  then  come  those 
who  desire  of  you  a  greater, —  and  require  that  which  lies  beyond 
your  aim  and  for  which  your  time  is  not  ripe.  With  the  reproaches 
of  cowardice  and  incompleteness  they  will  spur  you  on  to  strive  for 
the  unattainable  ;  and  this  struggle  will  deprive  you  of  that  which 
you  have  attained. 

"Therefore  stand  fast  by  your  judgment.  Do  not  take  from  man 
his  faith  in  the  ruling,  omnipotent  God,  and  his  purest  revelation 
in  Christ  and  in  Christ's  Word.  Do  not  take  from  him  his  faith  : 
faith  places  there  the  petals  of  the  flower  whose  fragrance  is  the 
love  of  God,  which  alone  sanctifies  us.  But  give  to  man  a  new 
priesthood,  —  that  for  which  the  human  soul  is  itself  calling. 
Only  unclasp  from  the  reason  the  goading  girdle  of  illusion  ;  loose 
the  screws  of  inconsistency  under  which  the  growth  of  his  spirit  is 
restrained,  and  arouse  him  to  reflection,  in  order  that  his  soul-life  no 
longer  endure  the  violence  of  the  strait-jacket  about  his  spirit." 

Brother  Martin  had  come  to  this  place  in  the  book  of  the  first 
reformer  who  here,  in  such  detached  thoughts,  near  a  mass  of 
other  utterances  taken  from  the  writings  of  the  ancients  and 
of  his  own  time,  had  laid  down  an  entire  policy  of  a  reformation, 
when,  looking  up,  he  saw  two  forms  approaching  him  from  the  city : 
a  young  man,  a  female  form,  whom  a  servant  followed  at  some  dis- 
tance. They  came  nearer  ;  they  had  already  taken  into  their  view 
the  group  resting  at  the  well,  when  Brother  Martin  recognized  them. 
He  sprang  up  and  went  briskly  to  meet  them. 

"Count   Kgino,"  he  exclaimed,  joyously,  "and  you,   noble  lady, 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  375 

receive  my  salutations  !     What  joy  to  see  you  well  preserved  before 
me!" 

"And  we  have  the  same  joy  to  be,  at  last,  able  to  conduct  you  into 
the  good  city  of  Sienna,"  said  Egino,  shaking  the  hand  of  his  coun- 
tryman. "We  have  been  awaiting  you  here  in  the  inn  for  two  days, 
since  we  have  fortunately  arrived  here  and  have  let  Duke  Alfonso 
continue  his  journey. 

"You  also  came  walking  this  way  for  my  sake  ?  "  asked  Brother 
Martin.  "  Then  I  can  bless  Rome  for  one  thing, —  that  it  gives  to  me 
a  noble  friend  to  take  home  with  me !  " 

During  these  remarks  Corradina  had  taken  some  steps  forward, 
and  had  observed  Martin's  traveling  companion  still  lying  quiet  upon 
the  sod.  He  turned  to  her  his  face,  stared  at  her  awhile,  then  he 
said  :  — 

"  Ah  !  is  it  you  —  you  ?     And  I  know  him,  there,  too  !  " 

After  a  pause  he  continued  in  a  whisper  :  — 

,  "  I  have  made  way  with  him,  —  entirely  made  way  with  him  !  It  is 
still  a  good  thing,  now,  that  I  have  made  way  with  him.  Is  it  not  ? 
The  monk  there  has  absolved  me.  Now,  since  Irmgard  is  dead,  it  is 
a  good  thing  that  he  had  his  share.  He  never  moved  any  more  ; 
didn't  you  notice  that  ?  " 

Corradina  shrank  back  before  the  ugly  man,  who  seemed  to  be 
able  to  do  nothing  but  brood  over  his  murder.  Brother  Martin 
stepped  near  him,  and  said  :  — 

"  You  know  him  ;  he  is  now  our  traveling  companion.  You  must 
also  receive  him  in  that  capacity,  Countess,  the  poor  Uncle 

T^  " 

Kraps 

"Oh  certainly! "  she  put  in ;  "we  are  thankful  to  you  for  thinking 
of  him." 

"  I  helped  bury  Irmgard  at  the  Campo  Santo,"  continued  Martin, 
"  and  her  uncle  then  followed  me,  as  if  involuntarily.  We  have  to- 
gether bought  a  donkey,  and  then  started  together  upon  our  pil- 
grimage." 

"  This  poor  man  is  to  me  as  a  fortune  to  which  you  lead  me^ 
Brother  Martin,"  said  Egino.  "What  consolation  it  will  be  for  me 
that  I  can  care  for  his  future,  you  may  feel  with  me." 

"  But  there  is  also  Gotz,  your  trusty  follower,"  exclaimed  Brother 
Martin,  espying  the  servant  following  Egino. 

"  I  owe  that  to  Callisto,  my  brave  friend.  He  has  brought  it  about 
that  Gotz  might  be  allowed  to  leave  the  city ;  and  since  Callisto's 


LUTHER    IN   ROME. 

gardener,  whom  we  found  at  Baccano,  knew  that  we  had  turned 
toward  Sienna,  Gotz  has  overtaken  us  here  yesterday,  and  upon  my 
good  steed  at  that." 

During  this  they  had  betaken  themselves  to  the  shade  of  the  well. 
Egino  and  Corradina  seated  themselves  upon  the  stone  bench  to 
rest. 

"  So  we  can  go  farther,  then,  to-morrow,  with  good  courage,"  said 
Brother  Martin,  standing  before  them,  "  homeward,  over  the  Alps. 
If  we  leave  a  dear  soul  behind  us,  let  us  comfort  ourselves  that  she 
ever  lives  in  our  thoughts,  and  thus  remains  with  us  and  goes  with 
us.  The  happiness  of  the  future  should  build  itself  now  upon  such 
an  offering.  That  is  the  law  of  life.  Every  happiness  demands  its 
price,  which  we  must  pay  for  it  ;  now  a  lighter  one,  now  one  more 
weighty.  The  lighter  spirit  comes  from  an  easier  purchase  ;  from  the 
more  earnest  and  profound,  a  harder  one  is  required." 

"That  is  so,"  responded  Egino;  "and  you,  Brother  Martin,  can 
utter  that  from  the  depths  of  your  own  soul ;  for  Rome  has  also 
demanded  of  you  a  sacrifice." 

"  Yes,  a  great  one :  the  inner  peace  with  which  I  came  ;  the  faithful 
simplicity  of  my  German  nature  ;  and  it  has  given  one  in  its  place,  — 
the  urgent  impulse  to  the  struggle  for  truth  and  the  pure  Word  of 
God.  I  came  in  the  light  gown  of  a  mendicant  monk,  and  go  home 
laden  with  the  heavy  armor  of  a  warrior  for  Christ,  with  your  book 
in  my  hand,  noble  lady,  as  a  sharp,  victorious  sword !  " 

She  was  silent.     Egino  then  arose. 

"  Let  us  go  back  to  prepare  ourselves  for  our  departure  at  the 
earliest  hour  to-morrow,"  he  said. 

But  Corradina  laid  her  hand  upon  his  and  interrupted  him,  turning 
to  Brother  Martin  :  — 

"  Do  you  know  you  have  still  a  promise  to  us  to  redeem  ?  You 
were  to  give  to  our  betrothal  the  consecration  of  a  priest,  and,  in  the 
pressure  of  events,  you  have  omitted  it.  It  is,  indeed,  the  custom 
that  one  also  blesses  betrothals  ;  and  I  wish  it,  because  I  follow  your 
young  friend  alone  into  his  land." 

Brother  Martin  looked  at  her  awhile  in  silence,  then  he  an- 
swered :  — 

"  God  dwells  as  well  under  the  shady  roof  of  this  treetop,  as  in  a 
church  of  stone.  Let  yourselves,  also,  be  immediately  blessed  here 
in  his  presence  with  the  purest  intentions  and  the  best  emotion 
which  lies  in  your  souls.  Is  it  not  written  in  your  own  book,  in  that 


LUTHER    IN   ROME.  377 

of  your  grandfather,  '  Give  to  each  one  as  his  priest  the  higher  man 
in  himself '  ?  Well,  then,  call  upon  this  priest  in  yourselves  and  let 
him  bless  your  united  hands ;  let  him  pronounce  over  you  the  word 
that  binds  you  forever.  It  will  be  a  more  spiritual,  a  more  holy  act 
than  I,  the  weak,  sinful  cloister-brother,  can  make  of  it  with  holy 
water  and  formulae  of  prayer." 

He  placed  their  hands  together,  and  while  each  became  absorbed 
in  the  glance  of  the  other,  he  added  with  a  mournful  smile:  — 

"See,  that  is  the  first  act  of  the  new  priesthood  which  we  will 
give  the  world.  I,  the  monk,  can  do  nothing  more  than  bless  it, 
give  testimony  to  it.  And  now  away  to  our  native  land,  —  to 
Wittenberg." 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  AT  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


AM 
7-4 

A 


DEC  2     1949 

RECEIVED 
LD-URL 

SEP  22  1965 

4-9  b- 


PM 
1O 


Form  L-9 
20m-l,  '42(8319) 


UMVBIUs 


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2511     S chucking 
X9E5     Luther  in 

Rome . 


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PT 

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L9E5 


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